Junjou Drabbles
by ImagineI
Summary: Sexy, smutty, serious and silly drabbles- for every Junjou couple- that may occasionally hit the M spot.
1. Venereal

This is the start of a one-a-day drabble series. Please review, really hope you enjoy them ^.^

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><p><span>Venereal<span>

"Misaki, what does 'venereal' mean?"

Misaki blinked and looked up from his laptop then down at Akihiko's frozen hand, the pen shaking slightly in it. Glancing upward, Misaki blushed under Akihiko's 'author gaze'- it was the one that was so intense and focused that Misaki forgot all reason for seconds and simply fell in lust with the silver-haired, purple-eyed moron that bonked him at every available opportunity… except when he was writing… when he would inevitably pull the 'author gaze' on him… and Misaki would, ironically and irritatingly, be the one who wanted to ride Usagi-san to the groans and moans of a sweaty orgasm.

"Misaki?" Akihiko asked again, voice sullen and low. Misaki gulped and typed 'venereal' into Google. The definition popped up with a bright sort of enthusiasm that made Misaki glare at the screen a little.

The glare turned into a full-on grimace as he read the words.

"Errrr…" Misaki began. "Like… serehl…"

"Serral? What, is that like a stone?"

Misaki sighed heavily, frustrated. _Just say it, you idiot! Come on, it's not that bad!_

"Misaki-"

"Sexual!" Misaki piped. Actually, he sort of screamed it. His hands were in tight fists over the keyboard as he tried to block out the restrained guffaws from Akihiko. He glared over at him, brow furrowed and lips pursed. That was all Akihiko needed to set him off as he threw his head back and laughed, his chest jutting out and in as he held onto his stomach.

_I'm never going to live this down_, Misaki thought simply before picking up the atlas under the table and hurling it so hard at Akihiko's head that he saw a floating image of a proud Kamijou-sensei in his mind's eye.

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><p>Please Review ^.^<p> 


	2. Tulips

Drabble No. 2 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Tulips'<span>

Hiroki walked into the apartment, both hands full with shopping bags from his weekly food stock up. He exhaled deeply as he leaned against the doorway, proud with himself for taking the stairs over the elevator. He'd done his work-out for the day…

"Nowaki?" Hiroki called as he hauled the bags into the kitchen and dumped them on the counter. He opened the freezer and grabbed the ice cream from one bag as he waited for Nowaki's response.

Nothing.

"Nowaki?" Still no reply.

He took some apples from a paper bag and walked towards the bedroom, silently cursing himself for feeling anxious. It was the norm- no matter Hiroki's disapproval and annoyance- for Nowaki to bound onto Hiroki the second the key was in the lock. He reminded Hiroki very much of a large dog who thought himself much smaller and therefore capable of leaping into someone's arms. Flat on his back with a growing egg on his knocked head was the actual conclusion of Nowaki's enthusiasm.

Hiroki kicked open the bedroom door and walked in, casually balancing two apples in one hand as he reached down to pick up a pair of Nowaki's briefs that had been thrown on the floor. Also the norm.

"Nowaki, I got salmon for dinner, is that oka-" Hiroki choked as he looked up and the boxers fell right back down onto the floor.

Nowaki was lying on the bed in the unlit room, completely naked and- judging by the wide smile on his irreversibly handsome face- proud of it. There were red, yellow and orange tulips all over the bed and one bitten between Nowaki's coy lips.

"Hello, tulip," Nowaki beamed, raising his knee and showing Hiroki way more than he was prepared for. Hiroki turned fuchsia and promptly launched both apples at Nowaki, his aim further south than his face. Nowaki shielded himself with his arms and giggled- a trait so adorable especially from someone so very tall, Hiroki couldn't help but admit- as Hiroki hurled Nowaki's boxers at him next.

"Learn some modesty, you stupid brat!"

"Aww, Hiroki, are you blushing?"

"No!" Hiroki spat, the expression on his face so taut it was like he had just swallowed a vat of lemon juice.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, flower-" Nowaki began, disregarding the boxers and getting up. He walked over to Hiroki without one ounce of shame.

"Don't call me flower! I'm not a child!"

Nowaki picked a tulip from the bed and got Hiroki in a gentle headlock, threading the stem behind his ear then letting him go and admiring how very pretty his lover looked.

"Idiot!"

"Cutey."

"Oi!"


	3. Granola

Drabble No. 3 ^.^ Enjoy and please review : )

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><p><span>'Granola'<span>

"What's that?" Shinobu asked as he walked into the living room. Miyagi was sitting on the green sofa, spooning what looked like nuts and dried fruit with milk into his mouth.

"Granola," the older man replied, quickly licking up the dribble of milk from the corner of his mouth.

"Huh?"

"It's a European thing. I found it in the foreign foods section of the supermarket."

Shinobu sank down next to Miyagi and peered over his shoulder.

"It looks like horse feed."

Miyagi swallowed his spoonful and stared ahead of him drolly. He was about to criticise Shinobu about his narrow-mindedness but a smirk crept across his unshaven face as he came up with a better idea.

"Then ride me, Shinobu. Break me in and show me what a good jockey you are."

There was a deadly silence before Shinobu tipped the bowl onto Miyagi's lap with a swift blow.

"Ahh! Shinobu!" Miyagi cried, staring at the brownish mulch and milk now on his suit trousers.

"Old pervert…" Shinobu muttered, getting up and going to the kitchen to prepare himself something other than something that resembled rotting pencil sharpernings.


	4. Twitch

Drabble No. 5! Please read and review, I hope you enjoy it ^.^

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><p><span>'Twitch'<span>

Akihiko walked into Misaki's room to find him working on his laptop, sitting on his bed. The lights were out and only the glare of the computer screen showed Akihiko what Misaki looked like today.

His flicky, brown hair was pulled off his forehead with a multitude of different clips and pins. He was wearing a pair of baggy blue tracksuit bottoms, feet adorned with inside-out socks, the bottoms of which were uncharacteristically grubby from walking around the house in them for the past three days.

It was the exam term.

For the past week, Akihiko had had to fend for himself, seeing Misaki only when the boy came to stock up on chocolate and mango juice to keep himself concentrating on his revision. Unless he wanted a painful fat lip, Akihiko had been warned to steer clear of him until the week was up. It wasn't like Akihiko couldn't just take him by sheer strength like he normally did though; Akihiko genuinely wanted Misaki to do well and so he had sworn abstinence for seven straight days.

_Only two more days to go_, Akihiko told himself as he put a cool glass of mango juice on Misaki's bedside table. He swore he felt something twitch in annoyance at the bout of celibacy.

Akihiko earned a grunt as thanks and was about to vent his frustrations at Misaki when he realised what Misaki was wearing on his top half: a large, woolen, grey jumper. But it wasn't any large, woolen, grey jumper; it was Akihiko's.

Misaki was wearing Akihiko's jumper.

Smiling, Akihiko reached down and pulled a bit of sleeve between his thumb and index finger. Misaki flinched.

"What?" he barked.

"Where did you get this?" Akihiko crooned, smirking. He still held the jumper wool gently. Gleeful pride washed through his chest as he watched Misaki blush profusely. Akihiko watched as Misaki tried to focus on his computer screen, his fingers hovering frozen over two keyboard keys.

"It...It helps me concentrate," Misaki muttered.

"What does?" Akihiko pushed. Misaki pursed his lips shut and continued to type, but slower than his capability. "The softness?" No blush. "Err... the size?" Akihiko guessed again. Still no blush. "Ah," Akihiko whispered, bending down. "The smell? _My_ smell?" A tomato would have been envious of how red Misaki turned then.

"Bastard, get out of my room!" he yelled, reaching for a textbook next to him. Akihiko darted out of the room, chuckling to himself and clinging desperately onto the ball of beautiful contentedness in his chest.


	5. Draped

Drabble No. 5 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Draped'<span>

"Shinobu-" Miyagi whispered. Instantly, Shinobu went to move off the man.

"Ah, sorry... Miyagi..." He had, in post-coital euphoria, fallen asleep on top of Miyagi; his legs on top of Miyagi's, head on one of Miyagi's broad shoulders and arms sort of wrapped around Miyagi's neck, his hands in his hair.

"N-no, don't move," Miyagi whispered. He was slightly embarrassed at how much he loved having Shinobu on him like this, so much so that he wrapped his arms around Shinobu's waist and held on tightly. Shinobu arched his back down to stare down at Miyagi.

"What-"

"Just..." Miyagi started off rather sharply. "Just stay there."

Shinobu lay back down, stomach tensed.

"I'll crush you, you know," he muttered, bringing his hands down from Miyagi's hair and folding them under his cheek as he turned his head to the side on one of Miyagi's pecs. "When I fall properly asleep."

"P-HAH!" Miyagi barked. He felt Shinobu scowl and smiled warmly down at the boy, stroking the copper hair off his cold, damp forehead. "You couldn't if you tried..." An affectionate pause passed between them, too lovely for them to be comfortable with- this was not the way they worked. "You scrawny brat," Miyagi added, for good measure. Shinobu flicked Miyagi on the neck and he winced as Shinobu's nail scratched him slightly. He felt a stir much further down a moment later. God he loved it when Shinobu used his nails.

"Is this... making you horny?" Shinobu asked, his cheek heating up against Miyagi's flesh.

"Don't give yourself so much credit," Miyagi scorned. But he couldn't deny- the feeling of Shinobu so intimately pressed against him, their flesh as close as possible and their hearts almost beating in unison... the _warmth_ they created together. It was heavenly. But he was exhausted from their previous shag and doubtless Shinobu was too. It was be illogical to make a move on his arousal now...

Instead, he gently lifted Shinobu's head. He grumbled something, but Miyagi ignored him, taking Shinobu's wrists lightly in his large hands. Shinobu was as delicate as a bird...

He brought the boy's hands back into his hair and nestled his nose into Shinobu's hair. He felt Shinobu inadvertently tremble as Miyagi breathed through his nose and then breathed Shinobu in and, smiling like the happiest wildcat in his lover's musk and warmth, the pair fell asleep. Draped around one another.


	6. Revenge

Drabble No. 6 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy! This was inspired by seiyalovesodango09 : ) And for anyone interested, I'm writing this listening to a band called Seether =D

This is a continuation of Drabble No. 2- Tulips. Enjoy ^.^

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><p><span>'Revenge'<span>

Nowaki woke up to the smell of Hiroki. He smiled and opened his eyes slowly, pleasantly surprised to see Hiroki was leaning over him. On closer inspection, it was clear that Hiroki was leaning over him not looking down at him. At tug on his wrist told him what Hiroki was up to.

"Hiro-san..." Nowaki mumbled, moving his arms to hug Hiroki to his chest... but he couldn't.

"Good morning, Nowaki," Hiroki greeted, his teacher tone on. Nowaki tried to move his arms again but as Hiroki leaned away and stood at the side of the bed, he concluded that he definitely could not get up. "Your hands are tied to the bed poles with those wonderfully strong ties of yours."

"Hiro-san, you're so cute when you're kinky," Nowaki complimented, already excited at the prospect of being tied up whilst Hiroki did what he pleased to him. Nowaki looked down at himself to see he was wearing a pair of jeans, an addition to his usual night garments of... well, nothing.

Hiroki stood there for a moment and stared down at Nowaki, his face more determined than arousing.

"Hiro-san?" Nowaki questioned his lover. A pause and then, without hesitation, Hiroki undid his dressing gown and allowed Nowaki to drool over the maid's outfit he was wearing underneath. The lacy skirt just about obscured his nether regions but showed off his newly shaved legs and impressively lithe torso under a yellow bodice.

Nowaki gaped, stupidly wide-eyed. He felt a tingle rush through his chest.

"This is for your stupid flower stint. You're not getting a inch of this." Hiroki leaned down and gave Nowaki a kiss on the forehead.

"Buh... Buh... buhbuhbuh..." Nowaki sounded very much like a hungry child who had not yet learnt how to speak.

"Down dog," Hiroki smirked, ruffling Nowaki's hair. Grabbing his work suit off the chair by the bedside table, Hiroki sauntered out of the room trying hard not to pull the wedgie of the attached thong.

_Why do women wear these things? _Hiroki thought to himself. Looking over his shoulder and seeing the practically sweating, struggling Nowaki, he found out why.

Ah, revenge was sweet.


	7. Love

Drabble No. 7 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy! This was inspired by seiyalovesodango09 : )

Please excuse me if this is a crappy one- I am extremely tired and am forcing myself to do this because I am determined to write at least one every day. NEED TO. I think this chapter is an example of love : ) Tell me what you think ^.^

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><p><span>'Love'<span>

Misaki stormed into the room, a wet towel on one side of his angry face. He marched into the kitchen and opened the fridge, trying to find something ice cold.

"Misaki? What's the matter?" Akihiko asked, looking up from his laptop.

"My face has _literally_ exploded. I look like the effing Phantom of the Opera without his mask on."

"Huh? Take that towel off, let me see." Misaki grimaced into the fridge as he recalled a time when Akihiko had said that before. He tried not to be aroused... it was on the counter next to him that Akihiko had whipped off his towel and sucked him hard and long and- "Misaki."

Misaki jumped and cursed to himself. _Fantasising about him? Seriously, this is what it's come to? _he yelled inside his head.

"Baka, Akihiko, don't interrupt me. I need to find..."

"Misaki," Akihiko repeated, this time right next to Misaki's ear. Misaki jolted and instinctively threw the bottle of salad dressing at Akihiko's head. The man caught it deftly in one hand as he used the other to snatch the towel off Misaki's left cheek.

"Ah! Don't, it's disgusting!" Misaki scrambled to cover his face with his hands, but Akihiko took both of his wrists and pinned them to the counter behind him. He then leaned forward and inspected Misaki's face closely.

"And you call me shallow..." Akihiko muttered.

"Shut up! It's horrible!"

"It's teenage acne," Akihiko countered, running a finger over the mass of blemishes and healing pimples.

"Don't touch, it might be contagious!"

Akihiko sighed and looked Misaki right in the eyes.

"Stop being so vain."

"Ah! From you!"

"I'm not vain, I just like being smart."

"Heh, before you kiss yourself in the mirror."

"Firstly, I've only done that once," Akihiko said. "It was whilst I was shaving. And, mister, I was practising for you."

"You don't need to practise," Misaki cried without thinking. He reddened. _Shit_.

"Ahhh, thank you, Misaki." Akihiko leaned forward and kissed the tip of Misaki's nose. Misaki grumbled.

"I've got blackheads on my nose as well."

Akihiko pulled back and studied Misaki's nose, stroking the tip of his own around it.

"You're still my soft and beautiful Misaki."

"Baka... don't say stuff like that," Misaki mumbled, averting his eyes downwards so he wouldn't be pulled in by those hypnotising eyes. He shivered as he felt Akihiko's lips press onto his cheek.

"You know, I do know a very effective cure for acne."

Misaki blinked up at Akihiko, genuinely interested.

"Huh?"

A lip-locking kiss later, Misaki caught on.

"No! NO, that is not happening-"

"It's been three days," Akihiko whined and whispered.

"Not my fault! You were on a conference and I had exams!"

Akihiko settled delicate kisses over Misaki's nose and both his cheeks.

"Does it sting?" Akihiko whispered over Misaki's battered skin- he'd so obviously spent the past hour picking his face to oblivion.

"A bit," Misaki gasped, his heart racing. _Akihiko's still kissing me, even now?_

An Hour Later

Misaki was absentmindedly stroking Akihiko's stomach, still in that carefree place that he arrived in after a particuarly extensive, loving bout of sex... which was, amazingly, more often than he cared to think about.

Akihiko was lying under Misaki, one arm behind him head as he other hand rested on Misaki's back. Misaki gulped. _I love him so much..._

Misaki noticed as he stroked that the man's stomach was a little rounder than he remembered and blushed to himself as he felt a twinge settle in his chest; he liked Akihiko rounder... from his food... it was actually more attractive than his too toned, lithe upper-half, which Misaki had no issue with whatsoever...

But this evidence of Misaki's care for him pushed him close to tears. As a stubborn tear spilled onto Akihiko's chest, where Misaki's head was resting, Akihiko flinched.

"Misaki? You're not actually crying about those zits, are you?"

"No!" Misaki barked, hitting Akihiko's stomach. Akihiko grunted.

"But you are crying," Akihiko pushed and Misaki felt his stomach tense.

"I'm not crying," Misaki defied.

"Misaki," Akihiko whispered. His tone struck Misaki and he looked up from Akihiko's chest. "_I love you_," Akihiko mouthed. Misaki bit his lower lip into his mouth, trying to hold his tears in. Akihiko leaned forward and placed both of hands on either side of Misaki's face. "I love you," Akihiko whispered, a powerful tone riding under it. He kissed Misaki deeply then pulled back, keeping his hands in place. He leaned forward for another kiss but paused as Misaki whispered back,

"I... I love you too."

They regained action on Akihiko's prescription acne cure.

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><p><em><em> Please tell me what you think constructively, I love hearing what people like <em>specifically_ or what people _don't like specifically._ Thank you!


	8. Motivation

Drabble No. 8 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy! This was inspired by seiyalovesodango09 : )

Listening to The Rolling Stones = )

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><p><span>'Motivation'<span>

"Urrrrrrrrr..." Shinobu groaned, lying under the covers, his face planted in the pillows.

"Shinobu, get up."

"No. You've killed me this time. Actually."

Shinobu felt the bed indent as Miyagi sat next to him.

"And I'm supposed to believe you're speaking to me from beyond the grave?"

"Baka! I'm dead, you should be mourning!"

"Well, after a _morning_ like that, I don't think it would be very appropriate or grateful to be miserable." The bed groaned as Miyagi leaned over and whispered into Shinobu's ear, through the duvet. "You fuck good."

"Go away," Shinobu muttered, smirking.

"Are you going to get up today?"

"I did," Shinobu said, dryly. "You saw how I got _up_."

"Mm... wasn't for very long, though, was it?" Miyagi teased.

"I'm not getting up, no matter how much you provoke me."

"I was thinking about taking you out to breakfast."

"That's not really proper motivation, is it?"

"Oh? And what is?"

"A morning film... someone to do my Literature paper... then breakfast..."

"You haven't done your Literature paper? Isn't that due in on Monday?" Miyagi pressed, concerned.

"Oh calm down, old man. I'll get it done... I did try to tell you before you sucked me off."

"Don't be so vulgar."

"From you!"

"How about... we both do your Literature paper; as in you write it and I'll help you correct it. Then I get to choose the film and you pay half of our breakfast."

Shinobu blinked into the mattress. Somehow, Miyagi had managed to offer him the perfect bargain:

1. He'd have the paper done quicker with Miyagi's help and- since he was a Literature teacher- it would be unlikely that his sensei would find issue with it afterwards, meaning he wouldn't have to concentrate on it for a further week.

2. In return, Miyagi got to choose the film; this meant that he wouldn't feel guilty for Miyagi helping him...

3. They would go halves on breakfast, giving Shinobu the sense of fulfilment that he was both independent and cared for Miyagi...

"Go on. Try and deny it."

Shinobu peeked his head up and looked up at Miyagi with wide, considering eyes. Miyagi was topless, his broad chest and torso attractive in the shadows of their bedroom. He was wearing a towel around his waist.

"Do you like the idea?"

The nervous fumbles of Shinobu under Miyagi's towel a second later told Miyagi exactly what he thought of the idea.

They watched '_The Godfather_'.

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><p>Please review!<p> 


	9. Custard

Drabble No. 9 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Custard'<span>

Akihiko looked over at the practically knocked out boy beside him as he snored into the pillows, his hands under his cheek and his hair ruffled. In the darkened room, with the sour, salty and sweet scent of sex in the air, Akihiko sat up in bed watching over his lover as he ate.

He scraped up the last of the vanilla custard from his blue bowl, loving the smooth, nectarous dessert food.

Misaki jerked in his sleep next to him, much like a dreaming pup. Akihiko smiled then grinned wickedly to himself as he ran his finger through the unspoonable custard in the bowl and wiped it on the tip of Misaki's nose. Misaki's nose twitched cutely, making Akihiko's heart pang.

_Resist_, he told himself furiously. _Get a tissue and rub it off, you big child! Honestly, putting custard on a sleeping person! How old are you?_

**_Who cares?_ came another voice in his head and Akihiko warmed to this voice better. _Help him... it's samaritan work, to get the custard off someone's nose..._**

Akihiko leaned down, studying Misaki's face and body for any sign of waking... before flicking his tongue out and catching the creamy treat.

"Aki...ko... are you licking my nose?" Misaki asked lazily. Akihiko paused, then ever so gently puckered his lips and kissed and sucked Misaki's nose. "That's... disgusting..." Misaki murmured.

"I was helping you," Akihiko whispered.

"You were licking my nose."

"One in the same thing!"

"That makes no sense."

"Oh, go back to sleep."

"No," Misaki grunted, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "I don't trust you to leave me alone."

"Leave you alone? Impossible."

"I knew I shouldn't have bought that custard."

"It's great. I had it when I was younger, in England."

"Mm, well, it's out of here as soon as that carton is- HEY!"

In a flash, Akihiko had grabbed something by the bedside, pushed Misaki back down onto the bed, shifted Misaki's t-shirt up and dolloped the custard onto his nipple.

"Akihiko, don't you da_...Ah!_"

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><p>Review, no matter your thoughts... would truly appreciate it ^.^!<p> 


	10. Novice

Drabble No. 10! Please read and review, I posted two today to make up for not posting one yesterday and the day before... tutut... I was properly busy though!

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><p><span>'Novice'<span>

Akihiko tried to keep his breathing steady as Misaki rolled his hips on top of him. He was in utter fascination. Etched all over Misaki's face were frustration and determination, his hair beginning to shimmer slightly with sweat.

Akihiko grunted low and pulled Misaki's hips closer into him, thrusting upwards hard; his pupils widened and he let out a shocked sort of pant at the beautiful sound this elicited from the novice who was unknowingly slow-fucking him to a heart-attack.

He knew Misaki didn't quite know the workings of a man's body and so therefore didn't know the torture of going so gradually. Akihiko had a good mind to grab Misaki's hair back and fuck him into the mattress, but he wanted Misaki to learn how things worked and so far Misaki was learning well-

A deep, quick bite on Akihiko's ear and a tight squeeze later, it was Akihiko who was beginning to think Misaki was teaching him. But, as their session drew to its peak, Akihiko regained his throne as Misaki completely let go of his body, moaning freely and digging his nails into Akihiko's neck and shoulders as Akihiko thrust harder and faster than Misaki thought humanly possible.


	11. Dwarf

Drabble No. 11 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Dwarf'<span>

Hiroki was achy, grouchy, pissed off and most of all, he was knackered. So tired was he that opening his eyes produced a yawn from him and his limbs were so heavy he swore he heard the bed complain at his exhausted weight.

If it weren't for the large, warm thing that was embracing him, Hiroki was fairly sure he would have slept very little; the buzzing of Teacher Training Day was still racing around his mind, the thoughts of team exercises involving rope and three-legged races with teachers he hated zooming around in his mind on those annoyingly loud, rumbling scooters teenagers seemed to favour.

Ahh, adolescence... he remembered it well...

"Ahh, Hiro-san, you must be so tired," Nowaki cooed into his ear from behind him, stroking soothing circles with his long fingers on Hiroki's stomach.

Hiroki felt guilty. After all, it was Nowaki who gave dying children a chance every day... and here he was, fatigued at a few bonding exercises... but anyone would feel this queasy after those company-provided egg rolls...

"I am..." Hiroki croaked.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Yes..." Hiroki moaned.

"Hehe, my sweet slumbering dwarf."

"Yes, I'm- wait, WHAT?"

"Well, you're tiny and wasted, therefore-"

"I am not a dwarf!"

"Hi ho, hi-"

"_You're _ the high hoe! You abnormally tall lush!"

"Hey..." Nowaki muttered and Hiroki smiled; he may have shut the brat up. But a second later: "I love it when you're clever." Hiroki groaned and then blushed, ashamed of his ingratitude all of a sudden as Nowaki hugged him tight to his chest, tucked the duvet around their symbiosis-state bodies, kissed behind his ear and then nuzzled his nose into Hiroki's ear, sighing happily. "Night, Hiro-san."

"Night, Nowaki."

"I love you."

"I..." Hiroki swallowed and gripped Nowaki's hand tight, the one that was settled over his heart. "Love you too... you great oaf."

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><p>Please review ^.^<p> 


	12. Busted

Drabble No. 12 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Busted'<span>

"I just can't think..." Aikawa tapped her head with her pen, sitting on the sofa as Misaki sat opposite her, wide-eyed as he waited for Akihiko to come down to stairs for his meeting with his editor.

"Err... anything I can help you with, Aika-"

"Yes!" Aikawa suddenly cried.

_Uhoh_, Misaki thought. _Got pulled into that one._

_"_I'm trying to think of a new idea for a short story I want Usami-sensei to write... it's for his anniversary."

"UH?" Misaki squeaked.

"As an author! Yeah, I thought a short novella would tie off fifteen years very nicely."

"Fifteen years?" Misaki piped.

"Mmhmm."

_I was three when he started his career,_ Misaki thought and baffled himself with the slightly proud, turned on twinge he got at the thought. It was a sort of 'my-husband-is-oh-so-intelligent, my-husband-is-oh-so-successful' pang that panicked him. When he realised he'd thought of the word 'husband' with Akihiko in context, he blushed manically.

"Um... is this one of his... _other_ novels?" Misaki asked, trying to distract himself from the lovey-dovey battle going on in his head.

"Yup."

_Okay, Misaki... this is a time you could be useful... think... stop being an embarressed teenager... think..._

_"_I wanted to include Usami-sensei as a character."

Misaki widened his eyes; the similarities Akihiko had with smut-novel, womanising, romantic, knight-in-shining-armour protagonists was staggering. He swallowed.

"He looks..." _You're not being stupid, you're being helpful,_ Misaki reminded himself. _Helpful._ "He looks really good in a tux. He's got the right... shape for it. Maybe something with him in a tux."

"Ah, Misaki, what a great idea. Glad to know what ticks your clock." Misaki practically combusted as Akihiko's words floated down the stairs from the landing. Misaki daren't look up at the man who was doubtless smirking smugly and serenely at the same time.

_Busted._

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><p><em>Please review ^.^<em>


	13. Fairy

Drabble No. 13 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Fairy'<span>

"You'd look really good in a tutu," Shinobu slurred as Miyagi guided him into their unlit bedroom. Shinobu slumped onto the side of the bed as Miyagi bent down to help him out of his shoes.

"God, how drunk are you?"

"Not that drunk." Shinobu hiccupped. "Okay, maybe... drunk."

"I'm never allowing you out to a student party again... you get so intoxicated and you're so easily influenced."

"I... you drunken me. I... love your influences... because you're a real..." he hiccupped again. "Neat guy."

"Okay," Miyagi smiled, pushing Shinobu back onto the bed and tucking the covers around him. He tried not to be repulsed by the smell of vomit. Shinobu was as floppy as a rag-doll. "You just go on and close your eyes and think of me in a neat tutu."

"I may barf again."

"Charming."

Shinobu suddenly giggled.

"You're a big fairy!" he cried out, as if he'd just discovered gravity. Miyagi blinked and then grinned to himself.

He knew exactly what he was going to buy from the sex shop next time he went in there for cinnamon lube... wings and a leather wand came to mind...

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><p>Please review ^.^<p> 


	14. Tuxedo

Drabble No. 14! Please read and review ^.^!

This is a continuance of Drabble No. 12, 'Busted'.

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><p><span>'Tuxedo'<span>

Misaki was sitting on the sofa watching the News, trying not to give in to his temptation; he so badly wanted to see what Akihiko looked like and it annoyed him that he was so anxious.

"And the Penhouse Exemplary Night, otherwise known as _PEN_ is tonight," the news anchor informed, enthusiastically. Misaki watched with interest. "Authors from all over the country are to gather at the Jasmine Hotel tonight for the awards. The bets are, so far, on Usami Akihiko for his groundbreaking novel surrounding a feuding family whose youngest girl is taught a valuable lesson when her mother dies. The ending of the story has been made into a short movie. 'Silence Of The Moon' is set to win the Quill Trophy and last week marked the fifteenth anniversary of Usami Akihiko's accolades in the writing world."

"Is that the news, Misaki?" Akihiko called from upstairs. His voice echoed as he was in the bathroom.

"Yup," Misaki called back. "They're praising you, even on the news. Aren't they supposed to be unbiased?"

"Well," Akihiko replied, "Yes." Misaki turned as he heard Akihiko's voice closer. He tried very hard to rehinge his jaw as he watched Akihiko come down the stairs.

The theme of the awards ceremony was 'American Prom', in order to honour the American alliance _PEN_ had started with American authors that year. Noticing what Akihiko was wearing, Misaki wondered whether Akihiko had fixed the theme just to see Misaki blush... thanks to Aikawa, Akihiko knew what 'ticked Misaki's clock'.

He wore a clean-cut, black Armani tuxedo, the bow hanging roguishly around his neck, not tied but fashionably so. Broad shoulders filled the jacket perfectly and the rest of the jacket smoothy outlined his streamlined torso, which narrowed gradually and gracefully from the chest down. His lapels were shiny in quality and his shoes neatly polished black, grounding his six foot two frame. There were absolutely no creases to be found, save for the cute pair of smile lines that adorned Akihiko's face. His hair had been coifed subtly with gel so that it flopped stylishly over his forehead in darker shades than his usual shiny silver. He looked distinguised. He looked elegant. He looked handsome. He looked...

_Damn hot_, Misaki couldn't help but think to himself, but he was fairly sure that his thoughts were written all over his face because as Akihiko reached the bottom of the stairs he smirked and raked his fingers back through his hair, his other hand tucked suavely in his black trouser pocket. His face was silvery alabaster, ever so fine stubble making him look heartbreakingly attractive, his shirt an untarnished white.

_Oh God, I'm gonna lose him tonight. The headlines will blast all day tomorrow... successful, inhumanly beautiful author mauled by rabid fangirls..._ Misaki slapped his cheek robotically for those stupid thoughts.

"Must dash," Akihiko said as he swaggered over to Misaki. Misaki felt heat prickle up his neck and over his face. It was like watching a model from a perfume advert walk through the television screen.

Akihiko's dark, heliotrope eyes gazing at him libidinously, making his body twist on the inside and clench and twitch on the outside certainly didn't help matters.

"A-Are you..." Misaki cleared his throat, shocked at how dry it was. "Are you going now?" Misaki asked.

"Must," Akihiko whispered, leaning down and folding his arms on the back of the sofa. Misaki was still twisted in his seat and hadn't moved, hadn't paid any attention to the painful twinge in his lower back as only his upper half was turned to Akihiko. Akihiko's face was a hair's breadth from him, his pepperminty breath tingling on Misaki's nose and cheeks. "Kiss me?" Akihiko whispered, eyes smouldering like burgeoning, burning violets. Misaki felt his entire body gulp involuntarily. He didn't move, his lips trembling ever so slightly as Akihiko's lips met his in a soft, lingering kiss. "See you tonight," Akihiko whispered, tucking Misaki's hair behind his ear and sauntering to the door.

The door opened and closed.

Misaki's body remained rooted.

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><p>Please Review!<p> 


	15. Sui Generis

Drabble No. 15! Please read and review ^.^!

This is a continuance of Drabble No. 12, 'Busted' and 14, 'Tuxedo'.

I know I've missed a couple of days... _bad_ ImagineI *slaps own hand*

But, hopefully, this will make up for it ^.^ Review with your thoughts, bad or good : ) _Sui Generis_, by the way, is French for 'unique' or something to that effect.

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><p><span>'Sui Generis'<span>

Shadowy darkness, blae and floating in the room like the rippling waters of some deep, undulating loch, met Misaki's green eyes as he opened them at the sound of a tiny creak.

The bed covers were tucked over his shoulders as he lay on his side and he widened his eyes, on the brink of fear; someone was in the room with him. He heard a distinct shuffle of someone taking their shoes off and let out a relieved breath.

It was Akihiko.

_I even recognise the sound of him taking his shoes off,_ Misaki thought to himself. _Is that weird?_

He felt a dull throb just behind his eyebrow and winced. About an hour after Akihiko had left, Misaki had started to drink. He'd been trying to quell the thoughts he'd been having about his lover and only now did he realise what a stupid, futile mission that was. He really needed to accept how he felt about Akihiko or he'd turn into an alcoholic... he turned to drinking when it hit him just how much he _loved_ the man.

Misaki turned over in the bed. Akihiko was sitting on the edge of his side, his back facing Misaki and his head hung. At first, Misaki thought Akihiko might be crying, but when faint clicks met hit ears he realised it was just Akihiko undoing his buttons. Misaki blinked in attracted fascination as his eyes wandered over his broad shoulders and back and the dagger-ended sterling silver hair.

"Don't." Misaki blinked as he heard his voice whisper but didn't feel his lips move. Akihiko's head jerked up in surprise at Misaki's voice and he turned as he realised what Misaki had said.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Akihiko asked, quietly. The collar button of his shirt was undone to reveal the shaded milky skin over his collar-bone and neck. _Am I still drunk?_ Misaki asked himself.

"N-no, it's fine," Misaki whispered back, averting his eyes to the tuxedo jacket that was hanging over the chair next to the bed. "How did it go?"

"Boring. Everyone was up their own ass, as usual and I had to speak to a myriad of hypocritical, critical snobs for the whole night." It always stunned Misaki how blunt Akihiko could be, considering the elegant, artistic prose he wrote.

"Did you win the Quill?"

"Yes," Akihiko replied, turning back around and standing up to undo his belt and trousers.

"Well done!" Misaki cried, sitting up in the bed. _What can I do to congratulate him?_

_"_Thank you," Akihiko muttered. "Did you have a good night?"

"Err, yeah."

"Misaki?"

"I kinda drank... a lot."

"You?"

"Yes," Misaki replied, indignantly. Akihiko turned back round, still standing to look at Misaki. He was about to shuffle out of his trousers, when Misaki had that same strange experience again- he spoke but did not feel it.

"Don't."

"You keep saying that," Akihiko noted, folding his arms over his still shirted chest.

"I've only said it twice."

"Mm... more times than usual for you to say anything so frequently."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, you said you loved me once and it took you half a year to say it again without backtracking or covering it up."

"I say that all the time!"

"Well, either I'm deaf or you forget to say it outloud."

"You're deaf." Akihiko laughed and went to undo his shirt buttons again. Misaki swallowed, panicking at the rising lust in his stomach. Akihiko just looked so goddamn sexy.

"Don't," Misaki sort of whined. He was at war with keeping his mouth shut and not revealing how he felt.

"Misaki, what's going on?" Akihiko asked, sharply, crawling onto the bed and putting his face at a nose-touching proximity. Misaki blinked, sat up in the bed and stared into Akihiko's eyes, heartbeat hurtling around his body as he found solace, serenity and... well, _sex_ in those eyes. They brought forward so many feelings... "Are you actually drunk?"

Misaki checked himself for wooziness and inebriated aches... but failed to find anything but a sobriety that was kickstarting his body into a wakefulness he hadn't experienced before.

"No," Misaki replied, making it sound as if he was deeply offended. Akihiko let out a low, three-beat chuckle and tucked Misaki's hair behind his ear, trailing his fingers down the side of Misaki's neck. Misaki felt cold shivers rise from his skin at Akihiko's featherlight touch.

"You don't seem to want me to take my clothes off," Akihiko whispered, smirking and searching Misaki's tell-tale eyes for the reason. Misaki blinked furiously as he felt his jaw quiver with bashfulness.

Akihiko and Misaki remained in those positions for at least thirty seconds; Misaki sitting up, bed covers over his crossed legs, staring stubbornly into Akihiko's violet eyes, determined not to reveal his emotions and Akihiko staring vaingloriously into Misaki's leafy eyes set on making Misaki admit his raging libido.

Then, much to Akihiko's astonishment, Misaki grabbed onto the man's shirt collar with both hands and pulled him down into a hard and fast kiss. He pulled back just as quickly, leaving Akihiko wide-eyed.

"There! Happy now? You better be, because I'm not doing that again and don't you dare think I'm about to do it again, you presumptuous-" Misaki ranted.

"Aww, you think I'm..." Akihiko began, curving his neck in an almost snakelike manner, aiming to kiss Misaki again. "No, I won't say it. It'll embarrass you."

Misaki turned his head, showing only his cheek for Akihiko to kiss. Akihiko exhaled softly against Misaki's skin and closed his eyes, smiling as he felt Misaki shiver. He peeked open his eyes and saw Misaki's eyes were scrunched shut and glanced down to see Misaki had squeezed his hands into tight fists.

When Misaki opened his eyes a second later Akihiko was gone. He turned his head quickly and saw Akihiko standing up again, unbuttoning his shirt once more.

"Redo those buttons," Misaki breathed out, releasing his fists and knitting his eyebrows together. He took a deep inhalation. "Undo your belt..." Misaki's fists returned as heat tingled behind his skin. The mere fantasy of Akihiko was electrifying. He was just such a... _man_. Misaki had seen plenty of other men before, on TV and in magazines; advertisers saw to it that handsome men were spread all across their commercials. But none of them, _none_, had that raw, imbued coalescence of sophistication, audaciousness, power and burly, bold _sui generis_. The way he held himself in front of Misaki... there wasn't a stiff bone in his body and yet there was a solidity there, a subtle strength and stance that secretly enslaved Misaki to the man. Misaki swallowed. "And put that jacket back on... the bow too... like you had it."

Then, Misaki promptly melted into the bed with his mortification. There was a pregnant silence, Akihiko's shock practically rolling off him in icy wisps.

"Misaki..." Akihiko whispered hoarsely, face blank with awe.

"We should... I mean, you should... I... oh, I'm going to sleep!" Misaki snapped, sinking back into the mattress and pulling the duvet over his blushing face.

The weight of Akihiko was over him in seconds, knees pinned on either side of his hips and hands just the same by his shoulders, the duvet between them. Misaki barely had time to gasp before Akihiko pulled the covers down to show Misaki in a big t-shirt and boxers.

"I've done what you asked," Akihiko simpered quietly, quite uncharateristically. _Or maybe it is in his nature to simper and he just hasn't had the oppurtunity to do so_, Misaki thought. _I really am a terrible... lover._

Misaki looked up at Akihiko in frightened fascination. His heart beat precipitately and, in a sort of daze, he raised his hands to hold onto Akihiko's arms. The bow hung from his neck, almost begging Misaki to grab it and yank Akihiko down but he didn't- he wasn't that brave yet. The jacket was back on, outlining the exact, firm, tall frame of the man Misaki loved.

_I love him. I love him. I love him. _

_I love his wit._

Misaki raised his knees and Akihiko gently lowered himself into place between his legs. Routine, but homely... secure and tantalising all at once.

_I love his passion in all things._

Both men shivered a little at being in such contact. Even now, the millionth time at least during these seven years, they anticipated this act. Akihiko lowered his head, his silky hair tickling Misaki's neck as he kissed at the bottom of his throat. Misaki's hold on Akihiko's arms tightened and as Akihiko kissed up his throat, under his chin, nibbling up to his lips, Misaki's knees gripped Akihiko's hips.

_I love his humour._

Akihiko's hands travelled down the sides of Misaki's body, his cool fingertips tracing up under his t-shirt and eventually helping Misaki out of it. Misaki's arms raised as his eyes remained focused on the shimmering black of Akihiko's lapels. He felt like a kept man... but in a protected way. So what if, for now, he stayed at home and cooked for Akihiko and washed his clothes? When Akihiko wasn't working, it was extremely rare for the two not to spend every waking and sleeping moment together. That was a perfect life for Misaki. He loved it, really. Though he wouldn't call himself a house...wife...?

Torso exposed, Misaki didn't feel vulnerable. Just naked in the rawest way because in this state, under Akihiko, he couldn't hide his love at all and he was completely under Akihiko's spell.

_His smell, his laugh, his taste..._

Akihiko licked over Misaki's bare shoulder, kissing down his upper arm and pulling it up to kiss under it as well. Misaki's arm was limp in Akihiko's hold, under his command. So close to Akihiko's scent, Misaki found he couldn't resist straining his neck a little to nuzzle into and kiss Akihiko under his jaw. Akihiko paused for a moment before leaning his forehead into the crease of Misaki's elbow and allowing Misaki to feel him smile. Then, Akihiko dabbed his tongue lightly into that same spot before licking his wet tongue right up to the wrist, tasting the saltiness there, by which point his tongue was drier and pleasurably rough.

_Even his disregard for anyone else but himself and... well, me..._

Now Misaki's arms were above his head, Akihiko leaned down to kiss Misaki's mouth. Misaki responded passionately, determined to show Akihiko the emotions that were breaking free from the cracking denial inside him. Akihiko at first was stunned and allowed Misaki to kiss him, allowed him to take control and groaned low once or twice. Somehow the covers had been pushed to the floor and the sides of Akihiko's jacket hung on either side of Misaki's body, sheltering him from the possible cold. When Misaki bit Akihiko's lower lip, Akihiko broke, nails dragging intensely over the veins and bones of Misaki's arms until they dug into Misaki's palms. They continued to kiss, continued to breathe into one another.

"Don't be ashamed," Akihiko whispered before kissing the side of his nose as his hands grasped Misaki's tightly, fingers interlaced.

Misaki kissed Akihiko's cheek, heart constricted with the overwhelming realisations flooding through him. Akihiko's unusually warm hands were suddenly on either side of Misaki's face as he placed a hot kiss on his mouth. There was a hot darkness under the cloakiness Akihiko's jacket created. It was like they were in a deep, small cave that only the two of them knew about. Misaki's fingers twisted in Akihiko's hair as he squeezed his legs tighter around Akihiko's hips and waist.

"It appears you have expensive taste," Akihiko whispered, fingers continually stroking Misaki's face and hair, scratching ever so slightly behind his ears. Misaki was enthralled.

"What makes you... say that?"

"Well, you like me," Akihiko smiled.

"I love you," Misaki corrected instantly.

They both froze.

Misaki began to shake a little as a glaze of tears formed over his eyes. Akihiko watched and then hugged Misaki's body to his own.

"It's okay," Akihiko whispered, rocking him gently.

"It's only just hit me now... God, I'm such a _horrible_ person," Misaki spoke, his voice wobbling.

"It's okay, shh... It's only you and I here. Don't panic, Misaki."

Misaki tucked his face into the curve between Akihiko's neck and shoulder and breathed him in. Heart in momentary catharsis, Misaki managed to take a couple of deep breaths.

"At age twenty five, I _know_ I'm in love," Misaki spoke through his salty tears, that dripped freely and without Misaki really aware of them.

"I knew you loved me when I was twenty eight, the same time I knew I loved you."

"You could have..."

"I did tell you."

"I love you," Misaki spoke again, holding both sides of Akihiko's face and shaking it once lightly. Akihiko breathed out a smile and a laugh.

"Especially in the tux, apparently."

Misaki bit his lip and looked down over Akihiko's shirt-covered chest and the shadowed fit of his black trousers. That belt buckle started to look very tempting...

Misaki nodded.

"Yeah, I don't know what that's about..."

"Say it again."

Misaki looked up at Akihiko and clipped him round the back of the head.

"Don't be greedy."

"Please..." Akihiko whispered, tracing his nose around Misaki's ear and softly biting on the lobe.

"_Ahh..._I love you, I love you, I love you. Now... s-stop it. You know I can't..."

"Resist that? Yes, I know."

Misaki gave him a light glare before raking his fingers through Akihiko's hair from his forehead, behind his ears, over the top and right down to his neck. Akihiko's lips parted with an uncontrollable, small gasp, his eyes hooded slightly as his hips pushed into Misaki instinctually. Misaki smiled.

"Mm and I know just how much you love that," he whispered. Akihiko swallowed.

"I'm not sure I like confident Misaki..."

Misaki swallowed too, realising just how bold he was being. He hid inside himself again but kissed Akihiko on the mouth before he could be consumed by his shyness too soon.

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><p>Please Review ^.^!<p> 


	16. Inspire

Drabble No. 15 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Inspire'<span>

"Hiro-san, come to bed already. It's midnight," Nowaki yawned, clad only in his boxers as he stood in the doorway between the living room and their bedroom. His arms were stretched behind his head, gradually moving so his elbows stuck up behind his hair like enormous cat ears.

"Go to bed, Nowaki. I've got to have this edited for Akihiko by tomorrow."

Nowaki abruptly executed his yawn, eyes menacing as he glared at Hiroki, who was sitting on the sofa in the dark, the glaring light of the laptop screen exposing the creased shadows beneath his near-bloodshot eyes.

"Why don't you come to bed now and wake up early to fini-"

"Nowaki, I really don't need any of your jealousy right now, so if you could just go to bed and-"

"Come to bed, my love," Nowaki whispered into Hiroki's ear, suddenly right behind him. His long fingers traveled over the front of Hiroki's t-shirt, passing resolutely over his nipples, applying a slight pressure with his thumbs over the buds as he wet behind Hiroki's ear with his tongue before biting the lobe gently, tongue still sliding up and down. He felt a quiet hiss as Hiroki took a quick intake of breath. "Come on..." Nowaki teased, rubbing teasing circles around his nipples. "Resist," Nowaki spoke sibilantly. His eyes glanced languidly at Hiroki's face and he smirked as he saw the conflicted pleasure and frustration.

"I promised Akihiko, Nowaki. Please, let me do- _Ah!_"

Nowaki had suddenly stroked his fingers under the collar of Hiroki's t-shirt and had begun to dance his cool fingertips over Hiroki's ready, sensitive nipples.

"I want to suck on you so bad," Nowaki whispered, feeling a pang in his boxer shorts as he heard Hiroki's tortured moan.

"Perfect," Hiroki muttered. Nowaki took it as a compliment to himself, but after watching Hiroki type his words between speechmarks onto the laptop screen, he paused. "You gave me the perfect inspiration. Akihiko will love that corny crap."

"Oh, I'll give you inspiration," Nowaki averred, rapidly shutting the laptop with one hand as his other moved to cup one side of Hiroki's face. He landed a fleeting, heated kiss on Hiroki's lips before bringing his arm back to scoop Hiroki off the sofa. He carried the man bridal style into their bedroom before twisting him around and caressing his behind with tantalising strokes.

Hiroki, undeniably aroused by Nowaki's plain strength and libido, allowed Nowaki to inspire him until three o'clock in the morning.

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><p>Please Review ^.^!<p> 


	17. Rabbit

Drabble No. 17 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Rabbit'<span>

Hiroki had, so far, had a pretty crap week... to put it bluntly.

Nowaki had been off on a training course for a week now, meaning his libido- though heartily denied from his corner- was in fact in dire near of attention. The discrepancy between his lies to Nowaki that 'I just don't need sex that often!' and what he actually felt (a jumping jerk inside his body every time he saw, smelt or felt the man) were arrant to the extreme.

More than that, six of his students were away on some exchange trip to Vietnam, which left him with his two least enthusiastic learners. He was very tempted to send them backpacking every time they yawned and stretched into his lessons, but knew that an empty class meant he wouldn't be paid for that session.

On top of that, Akihiko was on him twenty four seven, griping about his current lover's lack of regard of his own sex drive. As a friend, Hiroki had no choice but to stand and listen but the duress of his embarrassment at Akihiko's explicitness generally had him hurricaning large tomes at his ridiculously high head.

Furthermore, his parents were planning to remarry. This left him feeling an awkward, unsettling sort of guilt at not being married yet and a despicable shame that he still hadn't introduced Nowaki to his mother and father, even after nine years.

Walking down the hallway with a stack of wavering books in his arms, Hiroki was pissed off to the hilt. None of the students offered to help him, none but a brown haired, green eyed child Hiroki was shocked at seeing. He initially put him at around fifteen, but after listening to his conversation with his dark silver-haired companion, he learnt that 'Misaki' was in fact the proper age to be in University.

_Misaki..._ Hiroki thought. _Where have I heard that name before?_

_"_Have you been to that new mange store yet?" 'Sumi' asked Misaki.

_Bingo! Isn't that the name of Akihiko's bitch? I mean lover... partner? Oh whatever. It's not him, anyway, so just stop thinking about it._

Misaki, carrying three of the total twenty books that were now divided between the lecturer and two students, shook his head.

"No... but, hey, have you ever had a pet?"

"A pet? What, like a dog?"

"Yeah."

_Oh God... do I really have to listen to this inane shit in order to have some assistance?_

_"_Turn left at the end of the corridor," Hiroki instructed the boys.

"Why? Do you want to get a pet?"

"Yeah... but Usagi, I-I mean Usami Akihiko won't let me."

"Hah! Then just tell your brother- he'll coerce Akihiko, no problem."

"Hey, what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing," Sumi replied and managed to balance five books on one arm as he ruffled Misaki's hair with his now free hand. Hiroki followed behind them wearily, irked greatly by the mind-numbing conversation. Then it hit him what the kid had just said: '_Usami Akihiko won't let me_'. _Oh shit._ _HAHAHA!_

_"_You already have a pet by the sounds of it," Hiroki drawled with a bored tone. Misaki and Sumi turned to the renowned, menacing teacher. Hiroki let a droll smirk cross his face, eyes hooded.

"S-Sorry, Sir?" Misaki stuttered. Hiroki pushed past him and opened his office door, walking in and smiling to himself as the two students followed. _Finally, a release. _He put the books on the desk in front of him, pushing some of Miyagi's childish notes onto the floor and sitting in his swivel-chair. Both boys looked down at him before handing him their share of the books.

_"_Well, a rabbit is an animal," Hiroki said, playing dumb as he put the rest of the books next to his chair. "Give it a scratch every now and then, lay out some food and make sure it has a bed. Oh and make sure it doesn't soil itself. What's so darn difficult about that?"

"N-No, Sir, sorry, Sir. Usagi... by Usagi, I didn't mean a-"

"And if it's not spayed or neutered, make sure it has access to constant sex and I'm sure it'll be fine. Isn't that how rabbits work?"

Misaki blushed and Hiroki smirked- what a fresh flower Akihiko had plucked from the field.

"Yup, just a good shag buddy for the rabbit and he'll lay down and let you scratch his tummy. Why do you need another pet? Rabbits are _hard_ work by themselves, don't you think?"

Misaki blinked and Hiroki watched him gulp as he tried to explain that Usagi was in fact a thirty five year old man. It was comical to watch the development of Misaki's thoughts: from 'Usagi isn't actually a rabbit' to 'but there are similarities' to 'oh my God, he's just a fucking rabbit... he's exactly like a rabbit! that's why he's so bloody horny!'

"Get the thing spayed," Hiroki ordered, trying to stifle his laughs. "That should sort it out." He watched with glee as a fleeting thought of 'but I don't want _never_ to have sex with Akihiko' passed Misaki's face. It was quickly pummelled with social reason, worry and panic. God, this kid was so easy to read.

"Y-Yes, Sir... is there anything else we can-"

"Leave now. You've both served your purpose," Hiroki muttered, turning around in his chair. He took a moment to consider the strangeness of 'Sumi', in that self-confident smirk that was constantly painted on his face and then cracked out laughing as soon as the office door closed.

Miyagi walked in a second later.

"Terrorising students again, darling?" he cooed.

"Yes. Oh and by the way," Hiroki said, picking up one of the notes Miyagi had scribbled for him out of boredom. He pointed to a diagram, one of a woman and a note by it explaining to some effect that Hiroki was so stiff he didn't know what a naked lady looked like. "That thing is wayyy further south than that and whatever this female is, it's ridiculous; the size of those things would have her crashing into the pavement."

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><p>Please review honestly ^.^!<p> 


	18. French

Drabble No. 18 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Dedicated to FreshPrinceLover. You should definitely check out her drabbles!

Also, check out RhapsodyPeak's stories- funny, smutty, clever. ^.^

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><p><span>'French'<span>

"Bonjour, mon amie," came Miyagi's soft, subdued whisper from the en suite doorway of their hotel room. Shinobu looked up from his laptop, which was settled comfortably in his lap over the yellow blanket covering his lower half. He secretly hoped he'd be able to smuggle the blanket from Paris back to Japan.

"Is that French?" he asked, closing the laptop and openly observing Miyagi's body- the top half was broad and dappled with water-drops from the shower and his lower half concealed with a white towel.

"Oui," Miyagi replied, undoing his towel and drying off his jet-black hair. Shinobu looked down at his laptop; he would never look like Miyagi did. No matter how much he worked out, he'd always be... well, skinny but toned. Shinobu didn't find himself attractive at all. If anything, he found that when Miyagi had gained a little weight it usually went straight to his pecs, not taking away any of the muscle... but somehow making him look... _more_ gorgeous. Shinobu had tried to eat to gain weight but ended up breaking out in spots from the sugary, fatty foods.

"Is that 'yes' in French?" Shinobu asked, dazedly.

"Yes. Do you know any French?" Miyagi asked with an exasperated sort of tone. Shinobu looked him straight in the eye.

"_Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir_," Shinobu recited. "Though I have no idea what it means."

Miyagi blinked at him, dropped his towel and climbed over Shinobu on the king-size bed.

"Put that laptop down," Miyagi ordered, his nose touching the tip of Shinobu's.

"Say that in French," Shinobu whispered, not moving from the position.

"Mettez ce portable bas," Miyagi murmured, tilting his head with his eyes set on Shinobu's wantonly wet lips. Shinobu broke forward, hitting his upper lip and Miyagi's quite painfully before gently sucking on his tongue, arms wrapped rapturously around his neck.

Shinobu was soon covered in shower droplets and naked too. He learnt the true meaning of French kissing and that it didn't only have to be applied on the lips...

He never did find out what he'd said in French, but had a feeling it was something to the effect of, 'can you seduce me until I'm a quivering wreck, please?'

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><p>"Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir" is French for 'Would you like to sleep with me, tonight?' I have a feeling that Miyagi would love Shinobu speaking French like that!<p>

Hope you enjoyed!


	19. Ventriloquist

Drabble No. 19 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Check out FreshPrinceLover, F. Valconbridge and RhapsodyPeak (authors). They're all pretty fabulous.

This drabble is set during the very beginning of Misaki and Akihiko's anime relationship, before they've consummated their partnership and way before they kiss in the snow. This is whilst Akihiko is helping Misaki study.

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><p><span>'Ventriloquist'<span>

Akihiko

Akihiko was having one of his... moments.

He was outside Misaki's college with an umbrella and he didn't know quite how he'd gotten there. All he knew was that he'd seen the sheets of rain sliding down the large windows in his condo and automatically grabbed his car-keys and driven here.

And he felt as content as a cat who'd found a sun spot.

He began to hum ever so quietly to himself, progressing to singing a slow, chirpy song in a ventriloquist fashion as students rushed past him.

Misaki

"U-Usagi-sensei?" Misaki asked as he splashed through the small ravine outside the college. The rain pelted down, sliming his brown hair onto his forehead. His sneakers were soaked just from coming outside to go to the sheltered bus-stop over the road. Waterdrops chimed off objects like tinkling piano keys as cars whooshed past.

"Misaki," Akihiko greeted. He stood there, holding a red umbrella over his head, a serene smile on his face. Tall as ever, his silver hair shimmered, reflecting the reflected light of the sparkling rain. He wore a long, beige coat that reminded Misaki of something a stereotypical detective might wear.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Misaki asked, still standing by the school gates. Akihiko, dry as anything, blinked.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm... I dunno, a piece of art."

"You look good wet."

"Um..." Misaki blushed... _still_ standing in the rain. "Thank you..."

"You're welcome. Now, are you trying to tell me you like rain or that water makes you stupid, because the latter makes sense- you take a shower every morning and you're still an idiot, no matter how many methods I use."

"Hey! I'm trying my best!"

"Mm. Get under the umbrella, dopy."

"You... you came here for me?"

"No, I heard Gene Kelly was depressed."

"Huh?"

Akihiko made a small groan.

"I'm so old..." he muttered to himself, not loud enough for Misaki to hear. He walked forward, grabbed Misaki's arm and pushed him forward, the umbrella over both of their heads as they marched to the end of the tree-flanked road.

"I'm already soaked, there's really no-"

"The heating in the car will dry you off."

"Car-" Misaki stopped as he spotted the red sportscar parked round the corner.

Akihiko

_"_Thanks for picking me up," Misaki smiled as they got out of the car half an hour later. The underground garage was dark and cool. "You didn't have to."

"You're welcome. You would have been late for studies." He heard Misaki sigh a little at this.

"Hm... By the way, who's Gene Kelly?"

"Have you seen 'Singin' In The Rain'?"

"Nope. Heard of it though. What does Gene Kelly do in it?"

"There's this scene where he sings... in the rain... with an umbrella. He sings this famous song when he's in-" Akihiko froze mid sentence and stopped in his tracks as they walked up the ramp that led to the elevator.

"Usagi-sensei?"

Akihiko cleared his throat.

"Trouble," Akihiko finished. _Love_, he thought to himself. _Gene Kelly sang that song because he was in Love. No..._

Akihiko spent the minutes it took to get to his condo with Misaki convincing himself that the love panging in his chest was obviously for Takahiro. But his heart beat back a 'no' to his brain every time he tried to force the explanation inside himself.

_Love... Trouble... one in the same thing, really... probably just ate something funny, that's why I feel so strange..._

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><p><em>Please review! I take word requests by the way, but not couple requests. If you want me to continue a drabble, I'd be happy to do so : ) The title of this one, 'ventriloquist' refers to a) Akihiko singing almost indetectably at the college and b) him saying something, but keeping it secret.<em>


	20. Nurse

Drabble No. 20 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Nurse'<span>

Nowaki groaned as he flopped his forearm onto his forehead, wincing at the blistering heat that met his skin. He heavily pulled his arm back to check he hadn't burnt himself. No. He hadn't. It was just the highest temperature _ever_.

"Sit up," came Hiroki's voice from the doorway. Nowaki's eyes squeezed shut as the combination of a sound, even Hiroki's voice, and daylight fought his body. Hiroki, thankfully, closed the bedroom door after him as he walked over to Nowaki with a tray in his hands. The room fell back into rehabilitative darkness.

Hiroki sat down on the chair by his bed, resting the tray on his lap. Nowaki sat up laboriously, feeling his back cool as the sweat slid under his black t-shirt. Hiroki pulled the pillows up behind him just before Nowaki fell back. "How do you feel?"

"Like death warmed up," Nowaki groaned. He sniffed and then moaned as none of the phlegm even bothered to move. He took a shaky breath and rolled his head on the headboard of the bed to look at his current nurse.

"That sucks," Hiroki said, bluntly. He took up the silver spoon on the tray and spooned up some chicken broth from the wide bowl. Hand under the bowl of the spoon, he brought it to Nowaki's lips. Nowaki sipped it up. "Too hot?"

"No," Nowaki sighed, comforted by the soup.

"More?"

"Mmhmm," Nowaki smiled, squinting as the smile brought on a headachy throb above his eyebrow. He began to lean forward to take the tray and his hands managed to take either side of it before Hiroki thwacked his knuckles with the spoon. "Hiro-san?" Nowaki inquired, rubbing his knuckles.

"Don't even try to feed yourself. That's my job."

Nowaki blinked at him and, through the amalgamation of phlegm and heartburn in his chest, his felt a rush of shock and enchantment. Hiroki clenched his jaw, swallowed and looked down at the bowl.

"I don't want my sheets ruined because of some torpid giant hogging my bed... our bed, rather."

"Hiro-" Nowaki sneezed- "San!" He began to fall forwards to embrace Hiroki, clumsily. Before he could, Hiroki hurriedly put the bowl and spoon on the bedside table and shielded himself with the tray. Nowaki's head hit it in seconds.

"Don't. Kiss. Me."

"W'okay..." Nowaki sniffled. Hiroki gave the tray the droll look he wanted to give Nowaki before taking the tray away. Nowaki's head fell onto his lap, his body curling round so that he could stay in relative comfort in that position. It was sort of comic to see something of such great height fallen at the David's throw of a common cold.

Hiroki didn't hesitate before stroking Nowaki's hair back from his forehead, rubbing the top of Nowaki's back with his other hand.

"Next time I tell you to wait for me to come with an umbrella, what are you going to do?"

"Wait for you..."

"Good. You're a damn doctor, for Christ's sake. Learn some logic!" Hiroki barked, taking an icepack out of his pocket and resting it on Nowaki's neck. He groaned in relief.

"I'm sorry, Hiro-san. I won't ever get ill again. You shouldn't have to look after me like this."

"I'll always look after you," Hiroki said, stunned. His face went blank, shocked that Nowaki could possibly think otherwise. In a warped way, he sort of loved looking after Nowaki. The other side of him hated having Nowaki being ill.

"Thank you," Nowaki whispered, genuinely. Rhythmically, Hiroki pulled Nowaki back up and rested him against his pillows. He crawled over Nowaki after that, letting the soup cool down a little more. In the meantime, he lay by Nowaki, Nowaki's head in his lap, stroking his hair and back.

Like he vowed he would whenever Nowaki was a stupid idiot.

_Every flipping day,_ Hiroki thought to himself before he allowed himself a smile as he felt Nowaki's breaths slow, finally relaxing into a sleep.

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><p>Please Review ^.^!<p> 


	21. Bathtime

Drabble No. 21 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Bathtime'<span>

The droplets trickled pleasantly down his back as Misaki sat back in the bath, the hot water sinking his body form the neck down, hugging his body with warmth. His body groaned silently at the relaxation that instantly ensued. The scent of lavender wafted around the large bathroom, steam already masking the mirror above the sink. Misaki took a deep, therapeutic breath...

And eased into the arms of his lover, who had slipped into the bath behind him.

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><p>Properly short one, I know... but still ^.^ Please review! I have taken an oath to review everything I read. I know for a fact that every review I receive helps me to no end. Thank you ^.^!<p> 


	22. Green

Drabble No. 22 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

I'm just gonna put a thought out there before this chapter... Imagine all three of the semes singing 'Superman' by Eminem... as a sort of trio rap thing... I imagined it and thought it was hilarious... your thoughts?

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><p><span>'Green'<span>

It went like this. Very simply.

Misaki and Akihiko had gone around to Aikawa's for supper.

Aikawa had cooked.

Akihiko had fervently complimented Aikawa on her cooking, eating unseasoned vegetables that Misaki consistently strived to hide with by using different spices or wrapping them in meat, so Akihiko would get the vitamins and nutrients he needed. He ate them greedily here, without a bother, not bemoaning or wasting anything.

Misaki got jealous.

He really didn't like Akihiko enjoying someone else's food. He didn't know why he felt so passionately, it just hit him.

Misaki got green-eyed. Well, his eyes went greener than usual from his envy.

Misaki pretended he was sick.

They drove home before Akihiko even got to the fish dish.

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><p>Hope you enjoyed! Please review. I've taken an oath to review everything I read because I know for a fact that every review helps me.<p> 


	23. Thwapped

Drabble No. 23 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy! For katrinadianne : )

Songs:

Money- The Rolling Stones

Bombin' The L- Fun Lovin' Criminals

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><p><span>'Thwapped'<span>

"Misaki?" Akihiko called as Misaki practically leapt out of the car when they arrived in the unground garage. Misaki ignored the man, storming up the ramp and angrily pressing the button for the elevator when he had reached it. "Misaki! What's wrong?"

The elevator pinged open just as Akihiko reached him and Misaki slipped between the doors, pressing the 'close' button before Akihiko could get through. Unfailingly, Akihiko managed to jam his shoe between the doors just in time. He got into the elevator and pushed Misaki against the wall as the elevator began to swoop upwards. His hands gripped Misaki's upper arms.

"What?" Misaki barked, folding his arms and glaring down at the laminate floor.

"What's going on, Misaki?"

"Nothing! I just feel sick, is all."

"But you..." Akihiko paused and then took a hand away to cover his mouth. Misaki looked up and gaped at Akihiko: the man was laughing!

"What's so funny?"

"You're just so... hah! You're just so goddamn cute when you're jealous."

"I am not JEALOUS!"

"You so are," Akihiko said in a hushed tone, leaning down to eye level with the boy.

"I just find it interesting that you happily eat Aikawa's vegetables and complain about the ones I cook constantly." Akihiko blinked at Misaki's words.

"You're jealous because of Aikawa's vegetables..."

"No, because you ate them!"

"So you admit you are jealous."

"I... oh shut up!"

"Tell me Misaki," Akihiko cooed, intensifying his gaze in a way he knew would partially hypnotise Misaki into looking into his eyes. "Tell me you only ever want me to eat your food."

"What? Don't be ridiculous."

The elevator doors opened but both men remained rooted.

"Tell me you only want you inside me... _your_ food, _your _love, _your_-" Misaki thwapped Akihiko round the back of the head and skirted out of the elevator, popping his shoes off and unlocking the condo door with his own set of keys.

Akihiko watched from the elevator, folded his arms and smiled.

"Oh... you are so gonna get it..." he muttered to Misaki but too quietly for him to hear.

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><p>Please review! I've taken an oath to review everything I read because I know how every review helps me : )<p> 


	24. Inquiline

Drabble No. 24 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Inquiline'<span>

_This was not because of loving passion between the two men but an animalistic trial. Both men thought the other an inquiline and wanted, somehow, to push the other away._

_I watched as Akihiko pushed Nowaki to the white wall, the biceps under his shirt evident but not sickeningly. Nowaki glared deep into Akihiko's eyes, his shoulders broadened and chest puffed out with primal inhalation._

_Then Akihiko moved forward, slamming Nowaki against the wall again. Nowaki did nothing but scowl and did not make a move to push Akihiko off. In one feel swoop, I knew Nowaki could have Akihiko on the ground. But it was as if Nowaki was aware of Akihiko's pugnacity, aware of the vicious blows Akihiko could impart if he needed to defend himself. _

_I had seen three times the secret strength Akihiko possessed. Once, when someone had tried to take his school bag, his had swung it into their face and landed a kick to their shins, before taking my trembling hand and running back to my home. The second time had been years later, at a bar. He'd seen someone about to spike my drink and had rammed their face into the bar, arm twisted awkwardly onto their back. Third time had been on television. He'd been leaving his condo not two months ago, with a boy I recognised as one of the students at the university. Journalists had flocked from nowhere and had begun to question and bludgeon the boy with salacious and appalling interrogations. This had been broadcast across the news right before Akihiko executed a perfect slicing slash through the air and splintered the glass of one camera. I assumed the paparazzi backed off after that._

_But I did not fear for Nowaki. I knew Akihiko would not hurt Nowaki physically, because he knew how I felt. He assumed I loved the man... and that was a correct assumption._

_I was actually more scared for Akihiko. Countless times, Nowaki's strength had been exhibitioned, in several situations. It had always privately impressed me and I knew there was a chance Nowaki, with his impassioned jealousy and prehistoric hold on me, would lash out._

_So there they stood, Akihiko pinning Nowaki to the shiny white wall, me watching from an immeasurable distance. They were both heaving. Nowaki wasn't struggling._

_Then they both swerved, with violent speed, to kiss. Nowaki veered down a fair few inches and Akihiko sped up through those inches with viper accuracy._

_I watched Akihiko and Nowaki kiss. It was brutal, the way their lips gripped at one another's. Nowaki's hands leapt up to pull at Akihiko's silver hair- now bullet silver instead of any other romantic shade- Akihiko's hands propelling Nowaki's stomach back into the wall, but Nowaki protested and managed to overcome Akihiko's might. Tongues impelling against one another. In his black t-shirt, Nowaki's bigger muscles were now throbbingly evident and in no time at all, Akihiko was turned and smashed into the wall. Then they began to press their groins together. It was undeniably erotic to see two specimens of such sheer body with such intensity and magnitude. Frustrated growls were elicited from both men. Akihiko's nails dragged red trails down Nowaki's arms. Nowaki shoved his hips into Akihiko harder and their inescapable arousals were now painfully clear. Did I feel jealous? Surprisingly, no._

_Nowaki's hands moved to Akihiko's neck in a mock strangle. Akihiko bit Nowaki's lower lip. Nowaki hitched his knee between Akihiko's long legs. Both of their stances were confident. Both had won and yet it was clear that they weren't going to stop anytime soon. I feel a twinging pulse gather between the warmth of my legs._

_Their panting filled the conflicted room- Purgatory and Passion combined. Yes, it was turning to passion now... raw, groaning, illicit-_

Then I woke up. The room was a conjoined light and dark, early morning heralding a pale blue light under our bedroom door. Nowaki was lying beside me, snoring away, his mouth agape and an arm draped lazily across his broad, bare chest. I straddled him in seconds and kissed his fervently, tongue teasing and stroking his lips with heat. He awoke slowly but surely, hands moving instinctively to my back. I began to grind my hips down. He gained instant control, both hands cupping my face as he rolled me over and rammed his quick hardness into me.

I was ecstatic that he had won. Certainly, it was my resolute conclusion that Nowaki had won. He would always win.

My victor, my champion.

My Lover.

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><p>Please review! I have taken an oath to review everything I read on account of every review I receive helping me : )<p> 


	25. Delicate

Drabble No. 25 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

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><p><span>'Delicate'<span>

Misaki

"I officially cannot do this." I looked up at Akihiko, who was sitting on the sofa opposite me, engrossed in some highbrow novel about the turn of the German revolution. The sun cast a very pale glow onto him, making him look like some sort of saint. I repeated myself. His eyes stayed trained on the pages. I played a cruel ace. "Aki...ko?" I asked, as cutely as I could. He blinked. I watched his inner struggle as he tried to resist my rare, wanton call. He broke. As soon as our eyes met, I gave him the most happy, friendly smile I could. He went to smile back and then his eyebrows fell.

"What do you want?"

Something plummeted inside me, something like a small ball of iron. Was I really so bad that a smile only meant I wanted something of Akihiko?

"Err... nothing..."

"Misaki, what is it?"

"Nothing, just read your book."

With perhaps a little more drama than necessary, Akihiko closed his book, eyes on me as he threw it over the back of the sofa. He folded his legs and lay an arm over the top of the seat next to him.

"What do you want?"

I blinked furtively and looked down at the English homework in my lap. I shook my head.

"Don't-" Akihiko swooped over from his sofa to mine and had the sheet of sentences in his hand before I could think to snatch it off him. He sat right next to me, the sides of our legs touching.

"English... you're having trouble with your English homework and want me to help?"

"Please," I muttered. "You don't have to, I just got a bit down..." Akihiko slid his glasses off, cleaned them on his shirt and then put them back on, concentrating through the lenses at my homework.

"It's no trouble. But I do have a condition," Akihiko said, eyes still scanning the paper as he took a pen out of the top pocket of his white shirt, biting off the lid with his teeth and dropping the lid in his lap.

"Hm?"

"A kiss per sentence," he said, pen in his mouth, an innocent and wide-eyed expression on his face.

"What? No way!"

"Fine. Then I assume I won't see you in bed until the early hours of dawn."

"Don't be stupid, I can have this done in no time! I'll just go and get my dictionary and-" Akihiko tapped an image of a dictionary at the top of the page with a ban sign over it. My shoulders sagged and my head hung.

"Do you accept defeat?" he asked, the pen still in his mouth.

"Never!" I cried out, leaping up and imagining a legion of lexicographers standing behind me, little men who worked my brain. I sat back down and took the page from Akihiko's hand.

'_My diary says I'm free'_ was the first sentence. I recognised a couple of words.

"Err... 'my'... as in, watashi... and, um... that's an 'I' so... so, like watashi o... and then... err..."

"Watashi no nikki wa nobete imasu watashi wa furīdesu," Akihiko quickly spieled off. My whole body sagged. Akihiko's face leaned closer to mine, his pen lightly nudging my cheek.

"Err, no..." I sort of laughed. "I didn't agree to your deal."

"Foul play, Misaki." I felt a guilty disc roll around my chest and gulped. With the speed of a ninja, I spun my head and pecked his cheek. He frowned. "That wasn't-"

"It counts! Now, next sentence!" I beamed, nervous.

We got through a couple more, each one concluding with a kiss on Akihiko's cheek from my lips. Throughout, Akihiko kept the pen in his mouth, sucking on it as I worked, like a child. I used my own pen to avoid using the one in his mouth... it was frustrating to see Akihiko moving his lips like that, like a kid with a lollipop... When I felt a rousing in my body I barked at myself and told myself not to be so hormonal.

On sentence number ten, Akihiko spoke up.

"I really shouldn't have to bribe you into kissing me."

"Huh? I kiss you all the time!" I blushed. "Stop being stupid." Akihiko stared blankly ahead and held the answer sheet in his hands like he was about to rip it in to. "No!"

"I won't do it... just as long as I get a proper kiss at the end."

"Errrrrr... what would you deem as a 'proper' kiss?" I rubbed the back of my neck and slanted my eyes in Akihiko's direction. His face remained blank as he stared on ahead.

"On the lips, tongues optional."

"What?" Akihiko's hands began to move. I grabbed his wrist. "Alright, alright." I gulped and tried to focused on the final sentence, reading it out. "_M-My... old-ear... sssister wants ah reede homey." _

_"My older sister wants a ride home,_" Akihiko corrected.

"Oh... okay, so... watashi no ane... wa... _home_?"

"Ie... like house or home."

"Oh, okay... watashi no ane wa ie made kuruma o nozonde... iru! Yeah?"

"Mmhmm." I smiled at Akihiko.

"Thank you so much!"

"No bother at all. I enjoy being your teacher." I smiled.

"It was how we were first, like, together, sort of," I managed to say.

"You're right."

I smiled and stood, palms slightly sweaty with the sheet in my hands and let out a relieved breath. It had only taken forty five minutes with Akihiko's help. I took a step to move away, vision a little blurry as I tried to convince myself Akihiko had forgotten our deal. I was even more stupid than I thought.

"Misaki..." he purred behind me, in a warning tone. I gulped and took a deep breath, thinking quickly in my short allotted time.

If I took that damned pen out of his mouth and gave him a quick peck, the chances were that it would be unsatisfactory and Akihiko would pin me down and 'show me how it was done'. I wasn't really in the mood for that. Mainly... mainly because I wasn't very good at anything like that and I didn't want to disappoint Akihiko.

I hadn't thought that deeply about it before and it stunned me for a second as my mind told me why I was so reluctant and bashful when it came to... you know...

If I took the pen out of his mouth and gave him a _slightly_ longer kiss, it might keep him at bay at least until dinner...

Another, oddly imaginative option came to mind and made me squirm and shiver to my bones. But it had to be done.

Akihiko

I sat back in the sofa and watched Misaki freeze on the spot. I didn't feel bad for making Misaki do this; it was time he pushed his damn insecurity and discomfort away, especially around me. In fact, only around me. He could be as uptight as he wanted with everyone else. But it was beginning to hurt me how rare Misaki made any physical move towards me.

I know it sounded ungrateful, after all the other things Misaki did for me. But... it stung to think he didn't want to touch me or kiss me, even feel me.

Misaki turned. I looked up at him, pen between my lips. He bent down, in a perfect bow and came eye-level to me. I watched as he took a shaky, deep breath, his beautiful green eyes closed. Then he took the other end of the pen between his lips, bit down and slid it out of my mouth. I cocked an eyebrow and couldn't help but smile a little, impressed but still waiting. I parted my knees slightly, so he would have the option of coming closer and lay both arms on either side of me on the back of the sofa.

He blew the pen onto the cushion next to me then leaned forward, both hands suddenly trembling as he clumsily cupped my face. I felt his hurried heartbeat through his warm palms and gave him an easygoing, patient smile, making my eyes as soft as I could. I wanted him to be comfortable. I think he made the mistake of thinking I wanted him vulnerable. Don't get me wrong, I liked him like that... _sometimes_. I knew how confident he could be. I wanted to be the person he wasn't afraid of or with.

He swallowed and leaned in, tilting his head to the side. His warm, cookie scent wafted around me and I inhaled as subtly as I could, the scent filling me up as I kept my limbs away from him. This time, it was all up to him.

And then he kissed me.

_Darling, if you're reading this, know this: I have never been happier._

_The swell of euphoria gasped out inside of me, two ecstatic wings unbolted, unfurled and flew through me as your delicate lips caught mine in the sweetest, most novice of kisses. You were so new to initiation, but your efforts were stupefying. A pocket of air filled my throat as my love leapt up, offering itself to you._

His lips were so light on mine that the sensation of their presence was heightened, more powerful than a grip of the mouth. My eyes fell closed as a shivering breath purled through me and from the safe of my insecurities and discomforts came one enslaved, surrendering waive. Misaki's fingers pushed up my cheeks slightly as he moved in to kiss a little deeper. I felt such a strong urge to grab him then, to stop the trembling in his lips and hands, but the new experience was so electrifying and weakening all at once.

No one had ever initiated a kiss on my lips before.

He pulled back a little, licked his lips and kissed my lower lip, the glossy feel of his inner lips capturing my entire attention. The whole world came to naught. Misaki _was_ the world.

Misaki

It was terrifying. Absolutely petrifying. At first.

Once I got into it... I was... lost. Lost in him. Lost in Lord Usami Akihiko. But to me... Akihiko, Lord of... Lord of my Heart. My Master and my lover, the man who loved me, who took care of me... who I could always go to. I forced those thoughts, true as they were, into the fore front of my mind so I didn't scare myself with the situation. I had to convince myself this was right. In those seconds, the sissiness wasn't sissiness, but the naked, honest truth. He was so still. When an enervated, impassioned moan, small but definite, met my ears, it took me a moment to realise it had come from him.

It spurred me on further.

My heart raced, my breath hitched in my throat, his smoky, lavender and charcoal smell and his strength and his character lassoing me to him.

I pulled back and opened my eyes, gently. Akihiko kept his eyes closed and body still before a feline smile took over his face and his head fell back onto the back of the sofa. His arms were stretched on either side of him, knees slightly parted. He looked like he had fallen into an enchanted sleep.

I bolted to my room as soon as what had happened hit me.

I was scared shitless.

But in bliss.

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><p>Please review! I have taken an oath to review everything I read since I know every review helps me : )<p> 


	26. Rush

Drabble No. 26 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

Dedicated to abstractmind for her encouragement and kind, kind words. I hope you enjoy it.

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><p><span>'Rush'<span>

The tall grass knotted around my knees and ankles as I waded through it, eyes constantly distracted by the red, teasing flutter of butterfly wings flitting between the golden reeds. The echoing, squawking call of a kestrel inflated the warm breeze and as I looked above me to browse those clotted cream clouds for the birds, I spied two heron skimming the air towards a high, frothy looking evergreen over the lake.

The distant bleet of sheep, a questioning moo of a cow and the swish of a horse's tail somewhere nearby kept my ears perked up as I searched for Akihiko, a picnic basket looped by my elbow. I breathed in, not bothering to call out to Akihiko; I would find him soon enough. The scent of fresh garlic and lavender filled me up, the aroma of peppermint honey swirling around me. I followed the smell with my nose and eyes and was arrested by the panoramic of the clouds, white, pink and slate grey, swilled by the mouth of the setting, aurous sun. A fly buzzed curiously by my ear and I flinched my shoulder to instinctively persuade it away. The church next door to our French haven was gilded by the apricot sunlight. I turned to see if the same effect had been cast around our one-week holiday home. It hadn't. However, the navy wash of sky that arced behind it, blending from the liquified gold, captivated me further still.

I found Akihiko lying in the high grass, hidden by a curved wall of the lightly sticky wheat. Tiny beards of it had already clung to my t-shirt and long shorts. He was resting on his back, knees up and crossed, a book collapsed over his face. His chest, broader now than it had been ten years previously, was rising steadily with the rhythm of the trickle of the lake but two metres ahead of us. Pops of water burst from unpredictable spots as fish flung themselves to the top for the evening insects.

I sat down next to him and dropped the basket by my side, eyes following the shaded contours of his muscled arms in his short-sleeved, checked shirt. It had always interested me how he was so strong and yet he wasn't grotesquely toned... just, pleasantly so. His belly rose and fell, not fat but filled out like a proper pillow. I blinked into the sun and with the whim of a person half my age, I wished it a restful sleep.

I turned, checking first that I hadn't crushed the cricket that was vibrating very close by, raised my knees and let my head fall onto Akihiko's torso. I heard a tiny start in his body as he inhaled at the pressure and I took his hand from beside him and wrapped his arm over my chest. He calmed.

"Did you bring food?" he muttered.

"Jesus, Akihiko. You're like a pregnant woman! Always hungry!"

"You wear me out," he murmured and without looking I could see the joyful smile on his face, no longer ashen but the colour of fresh, white honey. It tasted just as sweet. Maybe darker...

Ten years ago, his comment would have alluded to his constant efforts to get into my pants and my consistent struggles and protests. Now, however, following the steady but certain revolution of my acceptance, he was referring to my healthy appetite for his favourite pastime. Sex and food. How wrong I had been to try and find the key to a once presumed complex personality; all my lover- yes, lover, always (my how elated I feel upon every admittance)- needed was someone to cook for him and lather him with love. Once I had quashed my young, terrified adolescence, I found it so fluid... so free. Love, I mean and the acting upon it. I remembered how terrified I had been when I had first initiated a kiss on Akihiko's lips. I had shaken for hours. It had taken another month for me to commit the same, heavenly act.

"Get it yourself," I griped, turning my cheek to feel the sunny warmth upon his pec. I inhaled there, quickly becoming drunk on his dark caramel scent. A pinch of smoke interrupted my inebriation. "And I'll tell you why you can get it for yourself."

"Go on," Akihiko hummed, rubbing my stomach languidly with his whole palm.

"You've been smoking, you wretched liar. Smoking! In a place as tranquil and natural as this?"

"Oh, don't nag," Akihiko groaned as a bee buzzed over us. I huffed and prized Akihiko's arm off me, but didn't move my head off him. His arm gripped me. "I promise I'll try and quit."

"Isn't smoking for stress? What have you got to be stressed about? All you done is sleep and eat for two days. What's wrong?"

He was silent, the wind whispering through the trees and grass. I swallowed and stroked over his knuckles, making a mental note to buy him some proper moisturiser.

"And your knuckles are cracked. God, you're a child!"

"Barely," Akihiko replied, soberly. "I'm thirty eight."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm old."

My heart clenched and hopped in my chest.

"You're... you're not old."

"I'm the same age as my mother when she had me."

"That's not very old at all."

"No. You're right. Just the right age, really... to have a child."

My eyebrows knitted. I twisted onto my side, took the book from his face and studied his blank expression. There was a well of intense emotion in his amaranthine eyes.

"What's this about, Akihiko?"

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Nothing. Let's eat." His stomach tensed as he went to sit up for the basket. I pushed him back down instantly.

"Well, that's a lie. I saw that pamphlet, Akihiko. I was going to bring it up but..." My palms started to sweat and I squeezed my hands into fists. No matter how much I'd grown mentally and physically- I now stood proudly just under Akihiko's shoulder- it was still difficult for me to speak openly. I wasn't eloquent when I spoke about my emotions. It never came out right. "I was waiting for you." Akihiko stared at me. I took a deep breath. "Look... I'm willing... I mean, I really would..." I took another breath and exhaled slowly, closing my eyes as a combine harvester roared to life a couple of fields away. "I would love to adopt a child with you."

A rush of air whistled around me as Akihiko shot up, caught me before my head could hit the ground and embraced me, very tightly. I loosened my body, knowing that struggles only provoked Akihiko to hang on tighter. He pulled back, arms still around my back and inclined his head. He released that most lethal of talents: his gaze. This skill was hurriedly followed by his seasoned, masterful hands. My whole body locked onto him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, voice low and alluring. I nodded.

"I wouldn't say so if I wasn't... dummy."

He kissed me instantly, somehow harbouring the warmth of the summer evening into our lips as my hands fell to stroke the sun into his arms. His chest rose in elation, his large, cool hands holding my face gently.

This was me at twenty-eight.

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><p>I hope you enjoyed this. Review if you feel the need : )<p> 


	27. Angel

Drabble No. 27 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

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><p><span>'Angel'<span>

Nowaki

Little blue tits were tweeting relentlessly from outside the bathroom window and as he got out of the bath-shower, Nowaki peeked his head over the pane. There they sat, two puffed up balls of blue fluff, sitting in their nest, doubtless about to take their first flight. The sky was just bluer behind them, sun casting heatwaves across the city. His cool shower had helped a little bit.

Nowaki smiled to himself and took the towel from the back of the door, drying himself off. He heard Hiroki's humming from the kitchen as he dried and put away dishes. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked out of the bathroom-

He forgot to lean down so as not to bash his head against the doorpane. Again.

Hiroki

The bang came the second he picked up the second to last plate. It slipped in his hand and he swore under his breath as he caught it by the edge just in time.

"Nowaki?" he called out. "What was that?" No answer. Grumbling, Hiroki finished the dishes and walked in the direction of where the bang had come from: the bathroom.

Lying on the floor between the bathroom and the hallway was Nowaki, the towel around his waist just about preserving his modesty. Hiroki shot down and shook Nowaki violently.

"Nowaki! Nowaki, wake up! Idiot! Come on!" He shook harder. "Wake up!"

Nowaki's eyes opened slowly. The minute he saw Hiroki, he smiled.

"Ah... the angel Hiro-san has come to save me. Hello, angel. How pretty your wings are... ahh... so pretty, like a... woman! With wings! You're glowing!"

Hiroki, eyes planted on Nowaki, grabbed an atlas from next to him and let it plummet onto Nowaki's head.

Nowaki

Nowaki woke up with a shiver and caught sight of Hiroki immediately.

"H-Hiro-san? Ah!" His head panged with the starting of a headache.

"Good evening, Nowaki. Tell me, what do I remind you of?"

"Err... O-Oh! I know, I know... you know that Disney film and that moment where the girl brings that Prince to the shore from the burning shipwreck? Yeah, you're like that girl... no wait, she was a mermaid, wasn't she?"

Even the innocent, well-meaning glee in Nowaki's words couldn't prevent Hiroki from grabbing the atlas again.


	28. Superhero

Drabble No. 28 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

I have failed in my mission to write every day -_-... this displeases me. However, I shall strive to make up for lost time and words : )

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><p><span>'Superhero'<span>

"Tell me again," Shinobu spoke, quietly. "You were coming home from the University when you got jumped by three thugs. One had a small knife?"

"Uhuh," Miyagi groaned, rolling his head into the cold flannel Shinobu was pressing just under his cut, bloody hairline. He was lying on the sofa, happily playing 'suffering patient' to Shinobu's 'Strict Nurse'.

"And they just attacked you?" Shinobu asked, squinting as he observed the small, deep cut two inches from Miyagi's ear. He had now washed away all the blood, so it didn't look half as worrying as it had done when Miyagi had stumbled in through the front door, suit jacket and briefcase not present on his person.

Miyagi swallowed and nodded. He winced at the motion of the nod.

"Bastards," Shinobu growled, voice menacingly low. Miyagi tried very hard not to laugh at the attempt Shinobu was making to look threatening. "You're sure you didn't see their faces?"

"No."

"This makes no sense," Shinobu said, suddenly. "When we met again, you had those guys off me in seconds."

"I was defending you, not protecting myself. I suppose... something just drives me faster whenever it involves you..."

Shinobu blinked, hand stiffening around the damp towel so hard that a little bit of water trickled over Miyagi's eye. He absentmindedly dried it with the corner of his t-shirt as he stared blankly into Miyagi's eyes. An adorable blush flushed pink over his cheeks. It was very unlike Miyagi to say something like this...

"Oh..." Shinobu choked out. He took a deep breath...

And then he whacked Miyagi over the head sixteen times with the wet towel, causing a sting after the blows.

"IDIOT! YOU ARE ME! I AM YOU! WHATEVER HITS YOU HITS ME!"

"That makes no sense," Miyagi responded, drolly. He was holding Shinobu's wrist with the ease of a bow around a lock of hair, effortlessly restraining him.

"IT DOES SO!"

"Look, you're shouting isn't really helping with my splitting headache." Miyagi struggled up and unbuttoned his shirt, left shoulder twitching as if from pain. Now shirtless, Miyagi revealed to Shinobu the rainbow of bruises down one side of his rib-cage. Shinobu's eyes widened like a cat's eyes did before it hissed and clouted its opponent. He shoved Miyagi back down on the sofa and pushed himself up, striding towards the bathroom.

"_Stay_," Shinobu hissed. "I'm going to get some arnica cream to put on those and then I'm calling the police to see if they have any CCTV of-"

"Ahh! No, honestly. That's not necessary, Shinobu."

"What?"

"Can you just leave it?"

"NO! I want those bastards locked up for what they did! Who's to say you're the last victim?"

Miyagi shot up from the sofa and grabbed Shinobu by the shoulders, gazing deeply into his stormy eyes.

"I just want to lie on that sofa and have you pet me. They're honestly not very painful wounds," Miyagi whispered. He lifted one hand to stroke Shinobu's cheek, feeling his skin tingle beneath his knuckles.

"But... that's not right... they could attack again!"

"Oh, for pity's sake! You can't get every bad guy, batboy!"

"Bat_man!_"

Miyagi spluttered out a laugh and ruffled Shinobu's hair, instantly wincing as his bruised skin stretched. They stood like that for a few seconds, Miyagi only in his black trousers and socks and Shinobu trying very hard not to ogle him too much... but it was too damn hard. Miyagi looked like a tenable hunk all the time, so the added appendages of bruises only added to the superhero complex Shinobu held for the man, secretly in his morbid, teenage fantasies.

Shinobu had him back on the sofa in seconds and was straddling him within the minute, their lips locked in a heated grapple for power. His hips gyrated roughly and irregularly, spurred by every subtle action Miyagi played out.

"Shinobu," Miyagi breathed, fingers stroking around the back of Shinobu's ear as his other hand pressed under his t-shirt, on his coccyx. Electricity flickered between them.

"Am I hurting you?" There was a pause after Shinobu asked this- it was a momentary role-switch.

"No... ah!"

"I am."

"Sorry, kid."

"Don't call me kid!" Shinobu warned, finger poised over Miyagi's cut.

"You wouldn't."

Shinobu sighed and hung his head, hands planted on both of Miyagi's pecs. He flicked Miyagi's nose.

"I'll just... rub your feet for you, then."

Miyagi felt a rush shiver through his chest. He leaned up on his elbows for enough time to nip at Shinobu's collarbone. Shinobu gasped reactively, watching Miyagi smirk up at him.

"I would _love_ a foot rub. I'll get you for it tomorrow, I swear. I'll be better by then." He winked for good measure. It worked.

Gingerly, Shinobu moved down Miyagi and sat on the half-free cushion at the end of the sofa. He slid off Miyagi's socks and tenderly began to massage his right foot, starting at the pad just below his big toe- this happened to be a very sensitive spot for Miyagi and earned Shinobu a sharp inhale of breath and a gratified groan. Shinobu smiled, content that he could comfort Miyagi. He looked up at the man's face and saw his head, black hair splayed away from his forehead, rested on the sofa arm. There were happy creases at the corners of his indigo eyes. Shinobu had always abtrusively felt that both their eyes corresponded with one another: his grey eyes were like the clouds above the raging sea of Miyagi's. Apart, they were simply components of a world. Together, they ripped their own little macrocosmic existence into a tempest. It was hauntingly muted, at times; like a silent movie, you could see the passionate storm on screen but not hear it. Then, when THX decided to blow your ears off, you were caught in the tidal wave, body waterboarded into submission.

The attack must have been a huge hit on his ego... it still didn't sit right that Miyagi had simply let these bandits beat him up and take his jacket and briefcase, though...

_The Next Day_

Shinobu turned his head in annoyance at the cackles coming form behind him in the auditorium. A gaggle of girls were huddled around a mobile phone. Evidently, they were replaying something on their video over and over again.

"Immature kids..." Shinobu muttered to himself, turning back around and scanning over the new kanji in his textbook. He attempted a particuarly hard one of the back of his hand, scratching a little harder as the biro dried out.

Miyagi was at home, on the sofa watching the TV... how he wanted to be there with him...

"Oh my God, this just doesn't get old!" one of the girls squealed. "We should totally put this on YouTube."

"What? No! Devil-sensei would freak if he saw this online."

"It isn't Kamijou I care about! Look at Yōh-sensei!"

Shinobu was up the auditorium steps in less than a second, the mobile in his hands only a milisecond after that. Papers scattered from his speed through the air. He ignored the complaints of the girls, tripping one up as she tried to get her phone back. His eyes were trained on the mobile screen the whole time.

There, before him in brilliant LED, was footage of Kamijou-sensei pummelling Miyagi with his briefcase, heckling something about imprudence and nymphomania.

Three guys with a knife? Pfft. Devil-sensei on a rampage, more like.

"Bastard..." Shinobu scowled, crushing the phone in his hand. "I rubbed your effing feet..."

Yōh Miyagi was met with a barrel of cabbage that afternoon, each cos shot at him like tennis balls through a throwing machine. He was stuck on the sofa for days, forced to eat okonomiyaki for a week, seeing as how he couldn't move to get himself anything else. Without any red pork or dressing, the Japanese style, cabbage pancakes were kindly coined 'okono_miyagi_' by Shinobu, seeing as how Miyagi just loved cabbages...

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><p>Review please : )<p> 


	29. Star

Drabble No. 29 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

I have failed in my mission to write every day -_-... this displeases me. However, I shall strive to make up for lost time and words : )

This chapter is not a continuation of chapter 26, 'Rush'. Please consider every instalment anonymous of date and time unless I say otherwise in these notes : ) Thank you. Please excuse typos, I will have this edited as soon as possible. I just want this out there to make up for missed entries.

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><p><span>'Star'<span>

Akihiko rolled Misaki's t-shirt up and off him, kissing up from his tummy-button, licking under his breastbone and gliding the tip of his nose around one of the shivering boy's nipples. Hands constricted above his head, Misaki pined to be released and wracked his mind for an excuse.

Was there something cooking? No.

Was the washing machine finished? No.

Did he have coursework to complete? No.

Did Akihiko had a deadline to meet? No.

Were they expecting to host a guest any time soon? No.

Did Misaki really have a say in the matter? _No_, Misaki thought. _No, no, no, no, no! Please n- oh, no... wow..._

Akihiko's large hands had swiftly moved to support Misaki's neck as it tipped back in surrender. His fingers were ice against his inflamed skin. Sitting astride Akihiko, Misaki felt the growing panic that always preceded the accomplishment of Akihiko's masterful seductions. Akihiko sighed and breathed in the scent of Misaki, deeply inhaling the smell of his sweet, slightly acrid sweat. He felt his own blood pumping with new verve through his body, felt it kick into gear the rawest, most instinctual side of his personality. Sucking on one of Misaki's nipples, he stroked one hand away from the back of his head, drawing his finger down Misaki's spine. His back curved into Akihiko's muscled torso, hips consequently driving into Akihiko's pelvis. Akihiko growled, low, as Misaki's hands clutched at Akihiko's hair; Akihiko had begun to bite at Misaki, nipping him at the most sensitive inch of his peaked nipple.

"_Oh_," Misaki moaned, shaking his head slowly as Akihiko's hands gradually drove up Misaki's back. It was fascinating and beguiling to see how his hands had manipulated Misaki's body into stretching like that, every tiny muscle systematically giving out a little throb.

Akihiko hooked his teeth in preparation by Misaki's earlobe, flicking out his tongue once or twice to tease him. Misaki's hands tightened in Akihiko's hair and he smirked. Then, when he felt the time was just right, his hands snapped to Misaki's hips and he ground his hips up, duly grinding the proof of his arousal near Misaki's cute, little tush. Just as Misaki choked out a cry of frustrated pleasure, Akihiko bit down hard on Misaki's earlobe.

It pushed him over a ledge, somewhere in the lust-filled labyrinth Akihiko had mapped out in Misaki's tortured, teenage mind. The truth was, Akihiko knew _exactly_ what Misaki wanted, because he still thought like a teenager himself. The difference was that Akihiko had always been _very_ comfortable with his sexuality, whereas Misaki definitely was not. Not yet...

"Usa..._gah!" _Akihiko let out a louder growl in response to Misaki's attempts at speech. He wet his lips, making them slidy enough for his operation before caressing the side of Misaki's burning neck with his mouth, hips merciless as he continued to gyrate them up into Misaki forcefully. They were both still wearing jeans, something Misaki has naively though would prevent more pleasure than necessary. He had been very wrong. For all intents and purposes, the effect was a lot more intense and he blushed profusely as he felt a deep, deep yearning to have his cock ride closer to Akihiko's. The friction of their clothing was devilishly arousing and he was damn sure Akihiko knew it. But there was no way Misaki was going to ask Akihiko to take their remaining clothes off. He had a feeling Akihiko knew that too.

"Go on, Misaki," Akihiko whispered against Misaki's bare shoulder. "Say my name."

"Usagi-san, _please_... don't..._ah!" _Misaki begged. But Akihiko was unstoppable. Squeezing Misaki's hips, he pulled the boy down and twisted his waist barely an inch... but the small amount was more than enough. Misaki shuddered involuntarily as tendrils of sizzling sensation spiralled up through his torso, vibrating around his hips and further down. Akihiko began to slowly dip his tongue into Misaki's suprasternal notch- the hollow at the centre of his collarbone. Akihiko's tongue felt so hot against his skin that Misaki's face convulsed into a tight, tense expression as he bit his lower lip and his eyebrows drew together. His hips were hypnotised by Akihiko's and of their own accord, they were responding to Akihiko's every gyration. His ankles locked around Akihiko's back just as Akihiko's legs bent at the knee, raising him a little higher. He began to nudge at Misaki's throat.

"Let me hear you again," Akihiko requested, elegantly tracing his fingers up and down Misaki's bare back and stomach. Misaki shivered just as a bird fluttered down from the roof and swopped past the wall-sized windows in the condo. For a split second, he was aware of his surroundings; aware of the tangerine glow that was flowing around the apartment, every finger of the sun reaching as far as it could to drink up every shadow... just like Akihiko's love, really, as they plundered through Misaki's young, foolish denial and stubborn habits. At the corner of his eye, he saw the pink of the sofa. Here on the floor, that sofa was beginning to look very inviting... but only for a moment.

Akihiko licked slowly and skilfully up Misaki's throat. Again, Misaki was stunned at how hot Akihiko's tongue was. He had stopped the motion of his hips, hands moving to Misaki's thighs. His thumbs began to rub emphatically over his jeans on his inner thighs. Misaki was arrested once more by Akihiko's fiery lure and his surroundings reverted to a flicker between the black behind his eyes- dappled by rainbow spheres from the sunlight- to the flash of white whenever Akihiko teased him to the edge.

Misaki bit his lip harder, tongue tasting something like iron on his inner lip. Blood? Really? Probably just loose skin...

"Let me hear you," Akihiko whispered, under Misaki's chin now.

_No_, Misaki told himself. _You're not his puppet! Come on! Get out of this! Now! You have to move before he says your name. Come on!_ Misaki's logic was simple. The second Akihiko spun his name out of his mouth with that alluringly low voice of his, Misaki was undone. He practically had a fancy bow and a special little card with the message 'please fuck me into oblivion' attached to his forehead. The way Akihiko always treated Misaki as though he were the best of birthday presents unsettled Misaki- why would anyone love him so much?

"Let me _hear _you..." Akihiko's voice was so captivatingly calm and yet strained all at once.

_God! Stay conscious, come on now._

Misaki felt Akihiko's nipples graze up his chest as Akihiko began to kiss around Misaki's jaw and throat some more. One of his hands was travelling all too pleasantly through his hair as the other was occupied with undoing Misaki's zip. He did this in an iota. Suddenly, Akihiko's hand was gone and both his hands were rushing through his hair as their lips crushed together. Misaki could no longer resist. Both his hands clenched behind Akihiko's neck as he took Akihiko's bruising kisses. Lost and nearly entirely seduced, Misaki sucked on Akihiko's lower lip from anxiety; he was curious why Akihiko had unzipped him and left that one, hungry part untouched.

Akihiko pulled his lips away, panting as he gave a little peck at the corner of one of Misaki's green eyes.

"Let me hear you," he demanded, quietly. Misaki's eyes opened cautiously and he spied a smile on Akihiko's handsome face. How could he be happy when this torture was occurring? "You need to let go to it, Misaki. Holding your breath and trying to bring yourself back down is a futile and selfish mission." He kissed Misaki's cheek with genuine affection, hugging Misaki's torso to his own around his ribcage. The warmth flickered between them, a unique heat that breathed through them like a hot drink that slices through you on a snow-bitten day. Misaki shuffled his hips a little, hands releasing and tightening as he tried to bring together a fully formed thought that wasn't '_Akihiko is so attractive, I'm so in love, God this feels so good, I just want him inside me_'.

"U...Usagi-san, please don't make me do this," Misaki breathed. _Because if you do, I'll fall completely in love with you- your strength of character and body, your smell and laugh, your heart and your soul. Then, we're more vulnerable. Then, if something tears us apart, it'll hurt you. I can't have you hurt like that. Please don't make me love you and hurt you._

"You're not doing anything wrong," Akihiko assured, hands trailing back down to Misaki's hips. Misaki gulped, a cold sweat forming in a very thin layer over his back and shoulders. Akihiko tested out another roll of his hips, gaging how Misaki dealt with it: a sort of frown passed over his face as his jaw clenched. Akihiko sighed, slightly disappointed with himself. "Breathe, Misaki. You're safe."

_I'll lose you. I know it. God, I know it._

Akihiko gradually began to pick up the pace of his hips once more, this time keeping one hand on one hip as his other hand rested at the base of Misaki's throat. Misaki swallowed and gingerly placed a small, trembling hand on Akihiko's cheek. Akihiko gave him a small, encouraging smile, his heart thudding inside him, almost painfully.

"I love you." _Oh God... God, you've sent my angel too soon. Akihiko has to be an angel. No one, no human, can be this inherently good, can they?_ A wild glint sparked in one of Akihiko's purple irises. _Or a devil... is Akihiko some sort of twisted punishment for my parents' deaths?_ "I love you. Misaki..." _He said my name in that voice..._

Akihiko blinked in a sort of shock as Misaki's body became a little heavier on top of him- was Misaki letting go? He ensnared Misaki's gaze before Misaki regained his shame and managed to glimpse a small star of... now what was it? Happiness? Not quite... Ecstasy? No... It was a little too pained to be so simple. No matter how deep bliss is, it's a simple emotion because it is in itself on thing. What Akihiko had glimpsed was something a little or a lot more complex.

_Please don't let me love you and hurt you._

Akihiko moved forward slightly and caught Misaki's lips. He felt Misaki flinch a little but then calm as soon as he felt the gentleness of Akihiko's offering. His hips moved a lot more smoothly, rhythmically. As he moved, he pushed his thumb up Misaki's throat slowly but surely.

"Let me hear you," Akihiko spoke into their kiss. He felt the skin of his face become a little clammy from the warmth passing between their two bodies.

_Please don't make me love you and hurt you_.

Akihiko sped up his hips just a little more, kissing over Misaki's cheek and down his neck as the hand on Misaki's hand moved to cup his behind, pulling him into him tightly. His thumb continued to move upward. Misaki's hand had slid to Akihiko's shoulder, his nails digging in erratically as his own hips began to grind down into Akihiko too.

"I love you," Akihiko whispered right into Misaki's ear, pushing his hips faster and scratching down Misaki's throat with his thumb nail gently. Misaki hissed in though his teeth, his free hand scratching down Akihiko's forearm desperately. "Let me hear you."

_He's not even in me and I'm close._

Akihiko rolled his hips strenuously. He felt Misaki's cock throbbing and smiled to himself at the eagerness of adolescence.

"Let me hear you," Akihiko kept on whispering, barracking him to make a sound. But Misaki had lost all control of his control. It was a cruel but true paradox of his uncaged love for Akihiko. It was up to Akihiko to make Misaki make a noise, because Misaki certainly had no independent power to, not when he was so rapturously enslaved. "Come on, come on, come on," Akihiko encouraged, enthusiastically. It had become abundantly clear that this was an exercise in pushing Misaki to his climax on his own and Misaki felt overwhelmed at the thought and selflessness, constraint and control Akihiko was portraying.

The air was becoming thinner, his throat tighter so that soon a tight, pleasant feeling was forming just around his Adam's apple.

_Please don't make me love you and hurt you._

His neck flopped forward but was instantly pushed push up with Akihiko's thumb, just as Akihiko's finger pressed into Misaki's entrance over his jeans. Akihiko's hips hit a decidedly sensitive spot, his thumb strained some unknown, erogenous area on his neck and with a long, intense shudder, Misaki came. Akihiko's thumb practically extracted the sound he had been asking for for minutes, persuading that evidence of exhilarated ecstasy and adulation combined.

Upon hearing that ghostly whisper of a scream, hearing his name '_Akihiko_' spoken like the pale, hushed fog over a lake in early morning, Akihiko came to the end of his deliberations. He knew what he had glimpsed in those green, green eyes.

Love.

_I love you._


	30. Broomstick

Drabble No. 30 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

This drabble celebrates the premiere of Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows Part 2 today. References to the book will be made during this, so apologies to those who may not understand. Questions will be answered. Review, if you'd like :)

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><p><span>'Broomstick'<span>

_Romantica_

"Misaki, are you going to make dinner tonight?" Misaki didn't take his eyes off the TV screen. "Misaki?"

"Not now, Usagi-san! There're some cold noodles in the fridge, get those!"

Akihiko sighed and cocked his head to the side. Misaki had become a curio from four o'clock that afternoon, his eyes glued and practically glowing with childlike glee as pale, English celebrities strode out on a long red carpet in Trafalgar Square, London on their television screen. Akihiko had been there many times before in his youth and understood what the interviewers and interviewees were saying without looking at the Japanese subtitles provided. Operatic, dramatic music played in the background as literally thousands of fans screamed their worship at the arrivals of the so-called 'Holy Trinity' of 'Harry Potter'.

"I didn't know you liked Harry Potter," Akihiko commented as he sat down next to Misaki. Misaki didn't move an inch, chewing his nails and practically exploding as a blonde woman wearing a green dress, adorned with pink flowers, came into view. She was signing as many of the flapping books and papers fans held out as possible.

"Like? I love it!"

"You've actually read it? I thought you didn't read novels." Akihiko tried to hide his hurt.

"No, I didn't read it..." Misaki admitted, guilt suddenly pooling in his eyes. "I listened to the audio CDs."

"Ah..."

"Oh my God! Daniel Radcliffe!"

"Who?"

"The Boy Who Lived!"

"What?"

Misaki let out a long, desperate gasp.

"The Dark Lord!"

Akihiko blinked at Misaki, saw the utter enchantment on his face as a decidedly unattractive being was shown on the screen. Misaki seemed enthralled. So a bald snake-man did more for Misaki than Akihiko did?

_Terroist_

Shinobu opened the door and let his book satchel fall to the ground by the umbrella stand.

"I'm home," he called, shrugging out of his anorak. No answer. "Miyagi?" He only turned his eyes an inch before he saw the six foot five man sitting on their sofa...

Wearing round spectacles...

And a long black cloak with some sort of red and gold insignia on the chest...

Holding, quite literally, a stick...

And concentrating on a mirror with red lipstick in his other hand as he drew a zig-zag line on his forehead.

"What the fuck?" Shinobu cried out.

"Ah! Shinobu!" Miyagi beamed, still holding the offending items. He grinned. "Don't you think I look like The Chosen One?"

"Huh?"

"Well, if he wasn't such a scrawny, European git... if I was his Oriental, taller counterpart, maybe?"

"What the fuck are you..."

"Here, put this on! The premiere is about to start!" Miyagi dropped the lipstick and twig, stars practically bounding out of his head with his excitement. He threw another black cloak at Shinobu and gesture to the muted TV, where a red-carpet scene was displayed amidst the large, statue lions and fountains Shinobu recognised to be in London, England.

_Egoist_

"Er, Hiro-san?"

"Mm?"

"I'm not going to be home tonight. Overnight operation on an anaemic girl."

"Oh, too bad... Good luck!" With that, Hiroki hung up the phone. Nowaki flipped his phone closed and stared curiously at the mobile as though it were Hiroki himself. He reopened his phone and scrolled to his text messages, finding one from Yōh Miyagi, Hiroki's colleague.

**_I bet you your demon lover will be busy tonight. I'd blame it on a bespectacled, black-haired midget._**

What had Yōh meant by that? And how had he gotten his phone number? More importantly, who was the black-haired midget?

Nowaki had called Hiroki to see if his lover would inadvertently reveal anything about this rumoured person. But no, Hiroki had been just as blunt and short-spoken as usual. There was no reason for Nowaki to stay overnight at the hospital really... Hiroki hadn't even complained about Nowaki staying (his not-so-secret way of showing he cared). That was weird and so was the way he spoke, too; a little more high-pitched than usual.

Nowaki got home half an hour after his pondering and was in the front door within seconds of his arrival.

"Hiro-san?" No reply... Nowaki's heart thudded as the worst scenario came into his mind: Hiro-san in their bedroom with a black-haired dwarf. Not that he had anything against dwarves, especially as how Hiroki practically was on himself. He swooped into the living room at the sound of a clatter of books and was momentarily stunned by what he saw:

Around the sofa seven multi-coloured books were strewn about the floor, Hiroki a metre from them as he sat an inch from the television screen.

"Hiro-san?"

"It's just an iconic moment! Harry Potter and his creator hugging! It's like... the end of an era!" Nowaki's eyes widened to their limit as Hiroki hugged the TV. He didn't think Hiroki even knew he was there. Spying a Western looking, pale, black-haired short man on the TV, Nowaki's heart-rate returned to a healthy pace. He faintly recognised the kid. "You will stay with me forever!" Hiroki suddenly cried in response to something the actor had said.

_All_

One thing is known- that night, two ukes were shown true Elder Wands as their semes cast their own unique spells over them, jealous at the attention their lovers so freely displayed for men they barely knew. One seme was knocked unconscious with a broomstick.


	31. True

Drabble No. 31 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

* * *

><p><span>'True'<span>

The advertisement appeared before him, angelic and sinfully appealing. Misaki's hands went lax on the laptop keyboard, a prolix of 'e's appearing in the search bar at the top right of the screen. But Misaki didn't notice or care. All he cared about was the three week cooking course with the renowned Rokusaburo Michiba, famous maybe most especially because of the hit Japanese cooking show, 'Iron Chef'. At eighty years old, the man was a well-respected, critically-congratulated example, an exemplar to those who wanted to develop their Japanese cooking skills without the complications that many chefs applied to the process in order to look grander than they really were.

Misaki's mouth dropped open as an unrestrained, warbling gasp came from him.

The course was to be held at a resort in China. It was ¥3882457. This included a single room; meals; prices for travel in order to visit certain restaurants and ingredients used in the lessons with Michiba. It did not include the professional equipment needed to participate in the daily lessons or flights.

Only intermediate knowledge was required.

Misaki ran through at least a hundred different ways of getting that money but kept on hitting dead ends with the upcoming date of departure from Japan to China; There was no way he could raise that money in two weeks. He felt his heart sink in his chest and shook his head a little, telling himself that another, more thrifty oppurtunity would come along soon.

He was not aware of Akihiko standing behind him, looking over his shoulder at the laptop screen. Without a word, Akihiko returned upstairs, leaving Misaki still gaping at the laptop as he sat on the sofa.

Two days later, Misaki arrived home after spending five hours at the University. He shrugged his book satchel onto the floor, donning his coat onto the masterfully carved, chestnut coat hanger Akihiko had recently purchased. The wood spilled out and flourished upwards in skilful waves and curves of caramel, polished brown and coats or whatever else was hung on it added to the art of the piece, turning it into an abstract sort of tree.

"Usagi-san, I'm home!" Misaki called, faintly surprised Akihiko had not come down the stairs yet. Had he not heard the door open and close? There was no reply. Lazily, Misaki went to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle, taking two mugs down from the cupboard and putting two cherry and cinnamon tea bags into them. Knowing he had at least three minutes before the kettle would boil, Misaki went back to his bag and picked it up, slouching up the stairs. "Usagi-san?" Still nothing.

Concluding that Akihiko must be out, Misaki pushed open his bedroom door and was momentarily stunned by how clean and tidy it was. Then it hit him that he barely spent any time in this room at all. He cleared his throat and tried to push out the flashback of him hugging Akihiko's arms around him as the older man had spooned him that morning in their practically shared room next door. It was decidedly worrying how often Misaki returned his affections. He needed to curtail these embarrassing outbursts soon, or...

_Or I'll end up gluing myself to his side and not leaving him for anything, _came the voice in the Misaki's head, which was piping up a lot more often these days. He blushed and sat on his bed, dragging his laptop (which he'd saved up for and bought himself two months ago) closer to him on the wall-long desk that was barely a quarter of a metre from his bed. He thought about how dangerous it would be if Misaki openly loved Akihiko so emphatically... if something happened... and they were parted... wouldn't it hurt so much more?

Opening up his laptop, Misaki found a rectangular piece of paper. He picked it up in his fingers and turned it around and dropped it a second later.

It was a cheque, untitled, for ¥7700000000. The signature of Usami Akihiko was swished elegantly at the bottom right corner. It was penned for Takahashi Misaki. Misaki's hands began to pump with blood and he swallowed at least three times in an attempt to take away the sudden dryness in his throat.

"It's the entirety of my fortune, bar around a seventh of what is written there." Misaki's head snapped up. Akihiko was standing in the doorway to his bedroom, a couple of letters held up in his hands. The top three buttons of his white shirt were undone, his black trousers uncreased and his navy socks curved as Akihiko's big toes perked up in an elfish fashion. He appeared to be browsing through his mail with the same sort of nonchalance as he had just spoken with to Misaki.

"Wh... I m-mean, why..." Misaki exhaled sharply. He had just held a cheque worth nearly eight billion yen. It was a true shock to his system.

"That should be enough to go on that cooking course you so desperately want to go to, in China," Akihiko replied to Misaki's stutters with magnificent matter-of-factness.

"Enough..." Misaki muttered. Then, "ENOUGH! Baka Usagi, this is a ridiculous amount of money! It's way over what the price is for that course! You shouldn't throw it at me so casually! There are so many charitable things you could-"

"I donate to a hundred different charities every month and change the charities every two months."

"But still! Where did you... I mean, how..." Misaki sighed with the exhaustion of the moment.

"Most of it I have earned myself, but a great portion of it is of hereditary gain." Misaki could think of nothing to say to this. Akihiko sniffed and began to walk away from the room, heading downstairs.

"Wait!" Misaki called. Akihiko walked back and folded his arms over his broad chest, paling in the growing white sunlight from outside. His silver-hair seemed paler than usual too, though it still glimmered in the shine. He spoke before Misaki could gather his thoughts.

"I'm sorry. I should have given it all to you. I decided to keep a seventh aside so we would definitely be secure, but I suppose that was foolish. Really. I'll go and-" A textbook whacked him on the side of the head as he turned to his office. Akihiko froze in motion as the Kanji dictionary thudded on the floor.

"Would you stop being so goddamn... blase about all this! You've just given me nearly eight _billion_ yen. The course is only-" Misaki paused after he attached this minimisation to the sum. "Four million yen." Misaki's voice seemed to quite literally die as he came to the end of his sentence.

"Oh. Well, then, I suppose you have extra spending money then," Akihiko said. He stood there, bold and proud as ever, daring Misaki to press him further. Misaki dared.

"What's this all about! Come on now, I know you're an exuberant man, but this is... this is just plain _weird!_ Weirder than usual and so... so out of place."

"The truth is Misaki that course spurred on a string of thought that I've been following for the past two days and I came to the end of it and... wrote that cheque."

"Why?" Misaki asked, noticing a strange sombre note in Akihiko's tone.

"Because what is mine is yours, Misaki. It really doesn't make a difference whose bank account that money is in."

Misaki was officially stunned. Never had he felt the true impact of Akihiko's emotions. It wasn't really the money that was having an effect on him, although the sheer amount was definitely staggering. It was that Akihiko trusted him to safe-guard something of his of such amplitude, if nothing else. All at once he felt an intensity rise inside him.

Grasping that Misaki wasn't going to move or speak for at least ten minutes, Akihiko moved away and went downstairs, beckoned by the whistle of the kettle downstairs. He felt a solid accomplishment settle inside in chest and was proud with his actions. He might have finally broken through to Misaki and made him understand how much he loved and trusted him.

Half an hour later, Akihiko was on the sofa, glasses on, watching the News with a cup of coffee. Misaki padded down the stairs. He felt like the air was thicker, though with what he wasn't sure. It was like wading through very thin water.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a few moments, watching Akihiko watch the television. He shoved his hands in his pockets, frustrated; he still didn't know where to put himself. An idea had mulled in his mind for the past thirty minutes and he was trying to come up with a way of telling Akihiko about it without crashing to the ground.

He cleared his throat, pathetically. Akihiko turned around immediately.

"Ah, Misaki. I was thinking about ordering in tonight, what do you think?"

"Yeah," Misaki muttered. "Sounds good."

"Okay." With that, Akihiko stood up and went over to the phone, slipping out a take-out menu from the drawer by the door. Just as he was about to dial, Misaki spoke up.

"Let's go on a cruise. Together. This weekend. One of those month-long ones."

Akihiko blinked at the telephone, jaw clenching. Had he really just heard what Misaki had said? The apartment became very silent, even with the sober buzz of the News in the background.

Akihiko turned, phone still in his hand as he stared at Misaki. The backdrop of the wall-sized windows cast a pinkish light around Misaki as the sun set behind stretched, puffy, purple clouds. His large, green eyes stared back at him warily and with his hands tucked nervously in his combat pockets, Akihiko felt an instant surge of affection rush through him.

"Your course starts in two weeks, we wouldn't have-"

"I would... I would rather go on a cruise with you. I'll pay..." This little joke was the needed impetus that made Misaki smile, bashfully. He was trying to incite some normality to this situation.

For two days, Akihiko had planned on breaking through to Misaki with his gesture. In half an hour, Misaki had Akihiko dumbstruck with his own.

"O-Or we could go somewhere else! I don't mind! If you don't like the cruise idea, we could... I mean, I could..." Misaki was responding allergically to the silence. "Oh, forget it!" he laughed, throwing a hand up. "I was just acting on a weird spur of the moment thing, so-"

Akihiko dropped the phone to the floor and let the take-away menu flutter down too and lunged to Misaki, gripping him in a strong embrace. He left his forehead fall to Misaki's shoulder as Misaki instinctually went up on his tip-toes, as he always did whenever they hugged. Misaki's hands went lightly to Akihiko's back.

"A-Akihiko?"

"I love you and I trust you more than... there is no comparable."

"I trust you too... and... and I love you." Misaki's words, though quiet, pricked Akihiko's heart with the scratch of Cupid's bow.

"And now I love you even more."

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><p>Review, please! I would love to hear what people think of this... I'm worried it might be boring and curious as to how it will be perceived.<p> 


	32. Pet

Drabble No. 32 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

* * *

><p><span>'Pet'<span>

"The precise perniciousness of your comments is indelible, undeniably. However, you lack the conviction your comments so desperately desire. If you had backed up your statements with veracious evidence, I would give you a keen A* straight off the mark, right here, right now. However, your synopsis of Murakami's work was unnecessarily annoying, which is a shame because I know you were aiming for some sort of piquant, noisome..." For a milisecond, Miyagi was lost for a word. "Execution."

"But Yōh-sensei, I-"

"Nattika-san, I genuinely want to give you a good grade, but I feel your dissertation was way below your usual zenith. Surprisingly, seeing as how we had to guillotine your first piece of coursework due to your admirable loquacity, you were five minutes short of the time slot allowed for this speech. I'm disappointed."

"I..." The girl seemed speechless now, a sharp contrast to her impassioned allocution not two minutes beforehand. Tears gleaned over her watery blue eyes and Miyagi watched as she bit the inside of her lower lip to stop herself from crying. He knew how sedulously this student worked, which was why is was doubly hard to see this happen. She was a truly gifted young student, one of supreme, undogmatic thinking. She would no doubt make an excellent politician. The trouble was, her family was going through a publicised crisis surrounding the will of a beloved, dying grandmother; a fierce woman who Miyagi had met at one Parents' evening and had loved instantly.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do," Miyagi sighed, shuffling his papers into a neat stack on his desk before giving Sayuri Nattika a pointed look as she stood in the auditorium. "I have to get these grades in, at the latest, next week. Seven days seems such a short amount of time for me to decide upon your result."

Sayuri blinked at Miyagi, not getting the hint. He narrowed his eyes, transmitting his message from his brain into the ether and hopefully into hers. It didn't work. Why was it that academically brilliant students never caught on to the bleedingly obvious stuff? He took his mobile phone from his pocket out of view of Sayuri and used it for a moment behind his papers. When he had finished, she still didn't seem to comprehend her oppurtunity. Well, he wasn't going to open the door wider than he already had. With another sigh, he stood up and picked up his briefcase, leaving Sayuri's notes on the desk instead of taking them with him, which was against exam policy. Miyagi left the room.

"He's giving you another week to edit your speech," came a voice from behind Sayuri. She jumped to the side like a startled rabbit and twisted her neck round. Standing at the top of the auditorium was a slim guy with a sharp-featured face and reddish blonde hair, which strongly contrasted with his pale, though hale, skin. He had entered through the emergency door at the top of the stairs, arms folded as he leaned against the wall in the shadows.

"What?"

"Take your notes and scramble on home, edit your piece and get it back to him as soon as possible. He'll read it through, don't worry I'll make sure of it and if he approves, he'll let you speak it again. If he's feeling good, he won't report this to Kamijou-sensei."

"How will you make sure he reads it?" Sayuri asked, her lower lip still quivering as her attempts to cease her crying continued. She watched the guy tighten his cross arms before he cleared his throat and spoke.

"I'm somewhat of a... 'teacher's pet'."

"Oh..."

"What the hell are you still doing standing there? Scram!"

"Oh!" And with that, Sayuri picked up her bag, whisked to the front of the room, snatched her notes and fled from the room.

About a minute later, Miyagi came back in.

"Has she gone? Did she take her notes with her?"

"Yes. You owe me," Shinobu said, dryly, as he walked down the stairs.

"What? Why can't you just do a charitable deed and let the gratification at helping someone count as your acquittal?"

"I don't care about the girl, she so obviously needed a helping hand it would have been ridiculous for me not to help. What I'm talking about..." Shinobu said, as he walked right up to Miyagi, walking him into the desk behind him. Miyagi sat down on the desk, eyes locked onto Shinobu's as they came almost eye-level with one another, though Miyagi's neck was still bent. "What I'm talking about is the fact that I had to endure you in teacher mode... using all those big words."

"You like big words do you?" Miyagi smirked, cocking his head to the side. He ran a hand over the two-day-old black stubble on his face. "I should have guessed..." He watched Shinobu swallow, nervously.

"Yes," Shinobu replied, taking a step so Miyagi had to part his knees. Shinobu stepped between them and looked Miyagi dead in the eyes. "I like _big..." _

Outside, as Hiroki walked past Auditorium B, he heard a small, jubilant howl coming from the room. He paused in his tracks, waited a moment longer for any other sound, heard nothing and continued on his way, concluding that it was the wind or a squeaky door. (In all honesty, Hiroki had no objections to students doing whatever they liked during lunchbreak; if they released whatever frustrations they had pent up inside of them, they would pay more attention in class. He'd learned from Nowaki, recently, that sublimation was a crime.).

Back in the auditorium Miyagi was giggling his low chuckle, pathetically trying to push Shinobu's hands away from his groin. Pushing aside his abashment, Shinobu leaned up and kissed Miyagi on the mouth. He pulled away.

"Words... Yes, I like big words."

"You're gonna get me fired. Your father's in this flipping building!"

"Mmm, you're right... I wonder how he would react to one of his top literature professors coming out of the closet as a cradle-snatching homosexual."

"That's not funny."

Shinobu let out a little cackle.

"I'm going to get some lunch, see you tonight."

Miyagi smiled to himself and nodded noncommittally in Shinobu's direction as he walked towards the main door. He straightened his tie and made sure his zipper was fully redone up.

"I hope your concupiscence survives your propitious thirst for my... quill," Miyagi muttered, libidinously. Shinobu turned at the door and scowled.

"You're a bastard for taking a hand-job then teasing me and making me wait another five hours."

"I didn't ask for the hand-job," Miyagi grinned, putting his hands out on either side of him as he wound Shinobu up for the sake of it. His temper was just too delightful to watch. Shinobu gaped and then gave Miyagi a cat-like, smiling sneer.

"Well, seeing as you were so kind as to wish me luck with my libido, I just want to return the favour. I hope your predilection for my tight, hot, throbbing _heinie_ wont distract you too much this afternoon."

Miyagi's eyes widened as the flashing memory of how heavenly Shinobu's ass was flitted into the forefront of his mind. He quickly regained power, however, as he pulled out a hidden Ace.

"Su culo es mío."

The smug, sexy grin on Miyagi's face made Shinobu's whole body tingle with heat and he stormed out of the room, headed for a friend of his who spoke Spanish. Miyagi knew Spanish! How had that not come up before now! He caught his friend in the lunch hall.

"Hey, I saw something written in Spanish on the wall of the toilets, can you tell me what it means?"

"Yeah, sure," said his friend through a mouthful of prawn udon. Shinobu made sure to keep his voice down- not knowing what Miyagi had said, it was dangerous to repeat it too loudly when the rest of the University was milling around, their ears primed for gossip.

"Su culo es mio?"

His friend coughed and snorted out a little laugh. He swallowed his noodles.

"It means 'your ass is mine'. What kind of weirdo wrote that in the fucking loo?" With that, he turned to his friends and passed on the story.

As the group laughed about it, Shinobu sat down and ground his teeth together.

_A dead weirdo,_ he thought, though the biting excitement inside of him was almost more than he could bear. God, he loved that old man.

* * *

><p>Please review ^.^<p> 


	33. Colours

Drabble No. 33 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

* * *

><p><span>'Colours'<span>

Akihiko's eyes were raw, his eyelids dry and itchy as he blinked. Somehow the tiny hairs that were his eyelashes managed to bring stinging tears, which spilled emotionlessly from the corner of his eyes, now dew-dropped like fresh, purple crocuses bursting forth from the snow; his pale skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the noisome glare of the laptop screen.

"Usagi-san! Dinner!"

"Yeah!" Akihiko called back, all-too-enthusiatically snapping the laptop screen down. He was down the stairs in half a minute (after he had made sure his current manuscript was saved). The condo was practically levitating with the delicious, earthy scent of Misaki's cooking.

He sat at the end of the table, taking a caring moment to adjust his tie neatly and tuck in his shirt. He didn't notice the bewildered confusion Misaki sent his way at his actions. Misaki served up red rice and skinned chicken breast in vegetable stock onto his square, white plate.

"_Sore wa oishidesu ne! _It looks delicious," Akihiko said, genuinely and routinely. Misaki smiled, not looking Akihiko in the eye as he sat down at the other end of the table. "Misaki?" Misaki looked up, but again not directly into his eyes. "Is something wrong?" Misaki swallowed as he stared at Akihiko's cheek before dropping his head.

"Have... oh never mind. I hope you enjoy the meal," he said, quite miserably.

"Misaki, if you don't look me in the eyes now, I'm going to commit you to an asylum for displaying ludicrous symptoms of porphyrophobia."

"I understood the first half of that sentence; the other half plunged me into the gloom of my guilt at how illiterate I am." With that, Misaki's head drooped over his steaming plate, a zoetic, sable aura practically fiddling around his hair and ears.

"Porphyrophobia is a fear of the colour purple and because you haven't looked me in the eyes for minutes now and my eyes are a devilishly handsome shade of violet-"

"Arrogant, vain narcissist-"

"I can only assume you are developing this horrible_ b__ête__noire,_" Akihiko spoke loudly over Misaki. At this, Misaki looked Akihiko dead in the eyes.

"Have you... _Have you been crying_?" Misaki asked, forcefully. His jaw was clenched in such a way that told Akihiko he was trying to conceal his worry. Akihiko blinked.

"Yes." He watched Misaki gulp and then observed the thought '_okay, must act calmly and try and help_' pass over his face.

"Why?"

"Because the light of the laptop is especially provoking to the old tear ducts."

"Bastard, I thought it was for a real reason!"

"That is a real reason."

"Not something I should worry about!"

After dinner, Akihiko returned to his laptop whilst Misaki stayed downstairs. Sitting on the sofa, Misaki took out a catalogue from under the living room table and flicked through the weighty book. Soon, he found the page he was looking for. From the array of colours available for the object he was considering, Misaki chose a very pale lilac.

A week later, Akihiko received a brown-paper package. It was small, about the size of a pencil case and a stamp at the top told him it had been delivered from a warehouse for the Mitsukoshi Department Store. Thinking it must be a token of admiration from a fan, Akihiko opened it in earnest, hopeful for a tray of 'E-Royce chocolates.

His expectations were exceeded dramatically when a pair of glasses, with pale lilac lenses, fell into his ready palm. The ear-hooks spiralled in a gothic fashion that was very appealing to Akihiko and the arms were thin and delicate. The lenses were thin, rounded rectangles...

Pleasingly purple perfection...

A pamphlet was included in the package. One thing he read was:

_Ideal to protect your eyes from the damaging glare of computer, laptop, phone or TV light, without affecting the natural image._

Misaki returned home that evening to a galumphing glomp from a very proud, excessively purple Akihiko.


	34. Grateful

Drabble No. 34 ^.^ Please review, hope you enjoy!

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

* * *

><p><span>'Grateful'<span>

"Yes, I have her file right in front of me now... no, I wasn't informed... of course, I'd be happy to attend it, but my priority list states that I must first offer my services to the Ying fami- it's just as important that I pay the same respect to my priority list as my hippocratic oath! No, that doesn't mean I don't care as much about Soo-Ling, Sir. I understand you are worrying about your daughter, but please understand that it is not in my hands who takes care of-"

"Nowaki?" Nowaki's eyes shifted to the door as he pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder. He waved a hello to Hiroki as he came through and then instantly returned to his call.

"Yes, sir. I promise to send this information onto my colleagues. No, not at all, I entirely understand what a difficult time this is for you. Thank you!"

"Who was that?" Hiroki asked, as he unpacked the shopping in the kitchen.

"The father of the little girl who needs her appendix taken out," Nowaki sighed, looking sadly at his mobile. He was sat on the floor, at the table in the centre of the living room. The sleeves of his navy polo-neck were pushed up over his elbows, his black suit-trousers scuffed at the knees.

"Troubling parent?"

"Huh?"

"Well," Hiroki explained as he rolled apples into the fruit bowl, "I divide the calls you receive off hospital hours into three categories: one, emergencies; two, grateful parents; three, troubling parents."

Nowaki laughed and scratched the back of his head.

"Aha, yes, I suppose you're right..."

There was a content silence in the apartment as Nowaki flicked through the young girl's file and Hiroki prepared vegetables for dinner. When he'd slipped the papers back in the large, brown envelope, Nowaki stood up to join Hiroki. He hugged the man from behind, resting his chin on Hiroki's shoulder. For a few seconds, he watched Hiroki dice carrots with a subtle, efficient finesse and- strangely enough- Hiroki allowed Nowaki to do so... for a minute.

"What are you doing?" he asked, gruffly.

"Watching you work."

"I'm not working... I'm cooking."

"Difference?"

"Well, with cooking I'm permitted to dice the subjects of the occasion... in a classroom, not so much. Not that I don't feel the urge to, constantly." Nowaki hummed out a little laugh on Hiroki's shoulder, tickling the shorter man's neck.

"I'm not going to be able to skin a duck with you embracing me like that... you're like a giant cobra."

"Mmm... but you feel so good," Nowaki whispered, happily, gliding the tip of his nose around the back of Hiroki's ear. He felt Hiroki shudder reactively and grinned. "And you obviously like it too."

"Just because I... _reacted_ doesn't mean I want you doing it. I just happen to have excellent reflexes."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah."

In less than a second, Nowaki spun Hiroki round and pinned him against the sideboard. He leaned in to kiss the man- who wasn't even stunned yet, from the speed of Nowaki's action- but something wet on the counter caused both men to slip. Hiroki slid to the side and- in trying to balance himself- ended up falling to the ground. His hands groped upwards for something to cling onto and he managed to grab onto Nowaki's top. Yanked down, Nowaki fell to the ground also, but managed, in a milisecond, to grip a dry part of the work surface and curl a strong arm under Hiroki. Hiroki was literally five centimetres from the ground. His wide eyes were pinned on Nowaki, who swallowed and then gave him a serene smile.

"You were saying something about reflexes?"

Hiroki was momentarily dumbstruck, both with Nowaki's alacrity and his own lack of agility. Then, both men realised the position they were in: a fairytale stance between heroic prince and swooning princess. Hiroki balked, blanched and then scurried to get upright. Smoothly, Nowaki brought Hiroki up with just the one arm under him. They stood with their torsos touching for an immeasurable moment, Hiroki scowling and blushing into Nowaki's broad chest. His hands were scrunched inadvertently on the material that covered Nowaki's pecs.

Nowaki, happy and ever-so-slightly smug, tipped his head to the side and placed a soft kiss on Hiroki's cheek. Hiroki inhaled to bark at Nowaki, but as the man wrapped both his athletic arms around him, he found himself undone. He grumbled into Nowaki's neck.

"I need to cook."

"But you're already cooking," Nowaki retorted, seductively. His finger trailed down Hiroki's shirt buttons and, as he kissed teasingly lightly under Hiroki's jaw, he pulled Hiroki's shirt out of his trousers and slipped his hand in. "You're so _hot..._"

"A-Ah, Nowaki... _eee..._" Hiroki's voice tightened as he felt heat rush over his cheeks and shot down the sides of his body. Nowaki's hand was massaging so slowly and rhythmically that even as he heard the pot on the stove begin to whistle in protest as it boiled, he remained pressed against the counter, his knee moving over an inch to allow Nowaki to fall between his thighs. "I need to cook," Hiroki gasped into Nowaki's hair, as Nowaki kissed down Hiroki's throat. Hiroki smelled the musty, slightly acrid scent of Nowaki's hair and was instantly aroused by the thought of Nowaki working out to the point that he had sweated. A sweet, peppery aroma hit the back of his mouth as his lips parted and he breathed Nowaki in. The smoky smell coming from the now trembling pot did not reach him.

Suddenly, Nowaki hissed and backed off Hiroki, a hand on his cheek. Hiroki gave him a confused look before his eyes caught sight of the violently shaking pot on the stove. As he took a second to observe the spitting water, he understood why Nowaki had flinched off him. He twisted the gas off, took the lid off the pot in a hurry and then rounded on Nowaki.

"Did the water burn you?"

"No," Nowaki replied, rubbing his cheek.

"Take your bloody hand off and let me see." Nowaki complied. A small red mark from where the boiling water had flicked him was in the centre of his cheek. "You're a paediatrician, for Christ's sake! You should know not to make out with someone near a boiling pot!"

"Sorry-"

"You should be!"

Nowaki's mobile began to buzz on the table in the living room. He sent an apologetic glance to Hiroki- who glared back but was secretly recovering from his spry, considerable arousal- and then rushed to pick up his phone.

"Doctor Kusama Nowaki! Who, may I ask, is calling? Ah, Taka-san... no, no, it was no trouble at all; your little boy was very brave throughout. How is the scarring? Mmhmm... Mm, it shouldn't do. Are the migraines still persisting?"

"_Who is it_?" Hiroki mouthed at Nowaki. Bemused, Nowaki once again pushed the phone between his ear and his shoulder, reaching for a piece of paper and a pen from the table in front of him. Hiroki had never mouthed anything to him whilst he was on the phone before. Though it may have seemed like a trivial moment to most, to Nowaki it was an affectionate bullet-point on his list of '_Firsts With Hiroki_'. He scribbled some quick characters on the paper and showed it to Hiroki as he continued to speak to Taka-san.

Hiroki read '_Grateful parent_' on the paper, made sure nothing was on in the kitchen and joined Nowaki on the floor. Nowaki looked at him from the corner of his eye and then stared into the middle distance as he replied to Taka-san.

"Yes, I was surprised Ang didn't show any of those symptoms at birth either, seeing as how they both shared the same... _environment, _shall we say," Nowaki laughed politely. He listened as hard as he could to Taka-san, trying not to be too distracted as Hiroki went down on his stomach and shuffled under the table; was he looking for something? "Uhuh... uhuh... well, I've never dealt with a sprain quite as awkward as that and the burn must have been so sore on his elbow like that. Uhuh..." Taka-san had begun to explain the day-to-day events since his two year old son had been dismissed from the hospital. As he spoke, Nowaki felt an itch on his ankle, which was under the table as both of his legs were stretched out. The itch suddenly turned into a shiver of nerves as he felt a hand smooth up his leg, progressively getting higher and higher. Startled, he leaned to the side and saw that Hiroki was between his legs, still on his stomach, with his brow furrowed and a vengeful sort of smile playing on his lips. There was a silence on the other end of the phone and Nowaki realised that Taka-san had asked a question. "Repeat that, please, Taka-san?" Nowaki requested, nervously. He was trying to catch Hiroki's eyes so he could mouth a question at him, but Hiroki seemed so focused on his task.

Then, he felt a palm push gently and then forcefully against his groin. His spine shot up for a second as an incoherent sound came from his lips. He quickly turned it into a cough before Taka-san could be too curious.

"No, no, just swallowed my water the wrong way," Nowaki excused, bashfully before 'mm'ing out a few committal sounds to Taka-san's continued speech. He was squirming his thighs now, trying to steady himself so he wouldn't enter the realms of pleasure too soon with a parent on his phone. There was no way Nowaki was going to ask Hiroki to stop or push him off, but he felt that- with the way Hiroki's fingers were now stroking ticklishly up and down his growing erection- if he didn't hinder the rush of blood, it would be to the detriment of his career: Nowaki was not a quiet lover. "So, you're going to continue with the- _ah!_"

Hiroki had unzipped Nowaki's pants, planted his hands at the top of Nowaki's thighs and placed his hot mouth over Nowaki's compact boxers. Nowaki trembled from his torso downwards and his eyes squeezed shut.

"Kusama-san, are you alright?" came Taka-san's voice.

"Uh, yes! Of course! What-" Nowaki cleared his throat in an attempt to hide his groan as Hiroki's igneous tongue began to prod at his base. He began to feel very feverish, a mixture of guilt and intense lust sparking inside him. "What medication are you going to concentrate on using? Uhuh... well, no, I wouldn't put anything oily on-" he punched the ground in strong frustration as his boxers were slid down and Hiroki's wet tongue licked him, sensitively. He tried to speak again, with a rough force in his voice he was scared Taka-san would take badly. "I wouldn't put anything oily on the scars yet, so try creams instead."

"Creams?" Taka-san clarified.

"Yes-" Nowaki's free hand shot to his burning brow, Hiroki's sweltry mouth taking him in, his teeth grazing down the sides- "Creams," he choked out.

"Kusama-san, would you like to take a drink? I wouldn't mind waiting, only your throat sounds very dry," Taka-san said, reproachfully. Nowaki swallowed and panted as silently as he could.

"Thank you, Taka-san, but I'll be fine." _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Nowaki's thoughts were torrid as they fizzed around his mind. "Yes, that would work, but I'd probably try Sudo..." he took a breath to steady himself as Hiroki began to bring him to a dizzying stage of pleasure, anticipation buzzing around him. He was forcing breath through his nose like a bull, trying to restrain his natural grunts and groans. "Sudocream, would be the best option," Nowaki whispered, his head lolling back.

"Sorry? I didn't hear you," Taka-san said.

"Sudocream," Nowaki repeated, somewhere between shouting and an acceptable level. He cleared his throat once more, hand gripping the table in front of him. Hiroki was scratching at his stomach now, his slim figure resting so pleasantly between his long legs. It was evil to scratch his stomach like that; Hiroki knew it was a killing erogenous zone for Nowaki. Nowaki began to hit his forehead against the heel of his palm to bring himself down from the seventh cloud to Heaven.

"...And there was a doctor there who told us he wouldn't be able to even try walking for at least two months-" Taka-san spoke.

"One should be fine." Nowaki gulped, focusing on maintaining a professional, caring tone. "One will be more than enough. How is his brother?"

"Very well," Taka-san said and with this, he went off on another speech; Nowaki wondered whether Taka-san knew how merciful he was being by not allowing Nowaki to cut in with advice once for at least thirty seconds. Those were thirsty moments and in his head, amidst the tunnel of black and dabs of a rainbow, flickered images of fire extinguishers, buckets of water, _anything_ to put out the near literal fire in his pants. He bit his lip then mouthed '_Hiro-san_' to himself, begging mutely as Hiroki's slippery mouth moved up and down, up and down, up and down his full, throbbing length. "So do you recommend we even keep the cast on for much longer?"

Taka-san's questions sobered Nowaki for a second and he shook his head, his mind clearing for one, strange moment.

"At least another two weeks," he replied, before serenity was once again gauged and he was returned to the tortuous bliss. "Is there anything else?" Nowaki asked, in a panic as he felt his climax peaking.

"Ummm," Taka-san interjected. Nowaki wiped a drop of sweat from his eyebrow and stretched his neck to one side, biting his lower lip again so hard it became sore after a couple of seconds. Nowaki raised one of his knees in order to alleviate the pressure. It did not work. "No, not really. You've been very helpful, thank you."

"Absolutely no worries," Nowaki exhaled, a relaxed smile on his face. This was so erotic; Hiroki had never done this to him outside of their bed.

"So, when's the next appointment?" Taka-san asked. Nowaki's heart sank and his eyes snapped open. It was policy that he tell every patient when their next appointment was. For a split-second, he was annoyed at Hiroki as he looked around him for his diary. It was at the far end of the table. He scrambled for it, careful not to move himself so Hiroki would hit his head. Pulling the silver book towards him, he swallowed and blinked rapidly as a countdown began to sound in his mind. _God, come on... come on, you can hold it in..._ Hiroki's hand had begun to pump at Nowaki's base, sucking him with his wet, hot mouth even quicker. Heat flashed around his body as his pulse twitched in unexpected muscles and tendons. A sweet sort of high was flooding through him, pushing up his tightening throat and swishing everywhere else. _Come on, hold it in! Hold it in! _"Kusama-san?"

"_AHHHHHHH!_" Nowaki suddenly bellowed out, ecstatic, relieved salvation grappling his entirety, body and soul released into a temporary abyss. After a few heavenly moments, in which he panted with unashamed glee, a dread clanged against him. Had he just orgasmed with a parent of a patient... on the...

"As I was saying, I have _excellent_ reflexes," Hiroki spoke from next to him. Nowaki jumped. In Hiroki's hand was his mobile phone, closed. "The grateful parent didn't hear your liberation, thanks to my speedy hands." Nowaki hadn't noticed Hiroki come up from under the table, let alone take his phone from his hand.

"What... What was..."

"_That_ was for turning my cabbage into mulch and making me miss _WordWarp_ on TV because I had to clean up the kitchen after your acrobatics." With that, Hiroki dropped Nowaki's mobile into his sticky lap and waltzed back to the kitchen, _mission accomplie_.

Stunned, Nowaki stared ahead of him and then sighed- blissed. He couldn't help but feel that Hiroki didn't realise that his punishment was more a gift than a persecution... but he wasn't going to correct Hiroki any time soon.

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><p>Review, if you'd like to ^.^!<p> 


	35. Breathing

Drabble No. 35! Please review.

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

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><p><span>'Breathing'<span>

The light around him faded as another car drove through the rain outside the hospital. Inside, the room was dabbed with a purplish hue as the night dragged out in the world beyond. Though it was certainly colder out there than it was in here, some of the chill seeped through the window and lingered around.

Akihiko took a deep breath, eyes studying the shadow of the squared windowpane on the shadowed wall. The four blocks of yellow light- shining through from the hospital hallway and through the closed door window- captivated him for a few mere seconds, his vision blurring as he tried to stay awake. He mentally flagellated himself for struggling with consciousness; Misaki was unconcious on the bed next to him, it was up to him to stay awake.

He had always felt that, during their relationship, they worked in shifts; whenever Akihiko was exhausted, Misaki was bubbly and whenever Misaki was fatigued, Akihiko was there to spark his energies and light a fire beneath his feet.

The whooshing of the cars on the main road outside sounded muted somehow, like cotton wool had been stuffed deep to his eardrums. He rolled his neck, swallowed a little and leaned back in the plastic chair at Misaki's bedside. He sighed through his nose and rolled his head on the wall to stare at his love, scribing a mental essay of the juxtaposing peace on Misaki's face and the struggle his body was going through, internally. His floaty, brown hair was wilted to the pillow behind his head, a scabbed cut over the bridge of his nose, which flicked upwards right at the end. A spritz of almost invisible, tea-coloured freckles was splashed on one flank of that petite protrusion and Akihiko recalled the day at the beach a few months prior.

Misaki had splodged an ice-cream on top of Akihiko's head as he had tried to seduce the boy on the sunny bay as bikini and boxer-clad onlookers giggled and frowned synonymously. Akihiko had laughed and managed to pin Misaki down next to him on a pistachio coloured towel... how peculiar it was that Akihiko recalled the colour of the towel and not the exact temperature of even the sound of the seagulls. Misaki's squawks and coos were the only birdsong to his ears, really, unless Misaki commented on, say, the particular loveliness of a blackbird's evening whistle.

The memory washed out of his head like the retiring tide and he was plunged back into the now darker gloom of the room. Misaki's gave out a shuddering, faint breath and both of his hands moved to the centre of his chest, covered with a blue and white hospital gown. A band was wrapped around his wrist: _Usami Misaki_. Akihiko's heart still fluttered wildly and then sank like a contented, pooling, blood-orange sun in his chest when he saw his _husband's_ name, coined with his own.

Just above his lap, he pressed his fingertips together and was kept awake for a few, silent moments as the metronome of his pulse ticked through them.

He was serenely astonished with the calmness that had rendered him almost immobile. Since Misaki's awakening but four hours previously, the shuddering, strangling panic and grief had dissipated. He didn't even care about his sportscar, now trashed; bonnet rammed in like a broken, bloody nose and windscreen now a web of glass. Misaki was fine, aside from severe whiplash, slight concussion and a few cuts on his forearms and one on his nose. No scarring. He had skived death thanks to the new airbags Akihiko had insisted be installed once Misaki had learnt how to drive. The bent in bollard wasn't very handsome now... not that a mound of granite could ever be.

How funny that Akihiko's world could be turned nauseously upside down by a simple, drunken swerve of a steering wheel; almost as if Misaki had orchestrated that abnormal orbit of Akihiko's macrocosm himself. Curse Satan for making Misaki such a damn lightweight drinker.

Still asleep, Misaki shivered in his sleep just as Akihiko's eyelids drooped for two seconds. On autopilot, Akihiko shifted forward, slipped off his long jacket- lined with red silk and a beige colour on the outside (he had waited outside Misaki's University in that coat, ready with an umbrella for the drenched kid)- and placed it over Misaki's elfin form. In this eight years, Misaki had certainly grown lankier, now standing to a height halfway up Akihiko's neck; his face had lengthened by maybe an inch or two, brow widened attractively; his jaw had become more defined and his fingers had grown more spindly and elegant. His biceps had buffed up a little and his shoulders had broadened... but his hands were still so tiny against Akihiko's. It was a regular routine of theirs to wake up in the morning and place their hands together, palm to palm, to see if any miraculous growth had occurred. But no; for the past two years, Misaki's middle finger still only reached halfway up the middle section of Akihiko's middle finger. Since Akihiko had cut the bottom of his thumb once with a particularly long nail, Misaki had also added the habit of applying a swift emery board to Akihiko's nails, weekly. This was usually done in front of the television...

"Usagi? Usagi-san? Hey, wake up!" Akihiko's eyes peeled open and he squinted instantly as white sunlight abused his pupils. After he grew accustomed, his eyes instantly flashed to Misaki. He was sat up in bed, pillows puffed behind him and his green eyes bright and alert. Those eyes hadn't changed one bit. There was a smile on his golden face. Akihiko jolted up in his chair and dragged his fingers through his hair.

"I fell asleep... sorry. Is there anything I can get you? You should have woken me up. How do you feel? Are you still, I mean, do you still have that headache? Should I beep for the nurse. But no, you're probably hungry-" Misaki raised a hand to silence Akihiko, not in a bitchy way, more calming. He pointed the the plate in his lap, crumbs of brown bread evidence of a bygone breakfast. Akihiko swallowed to wet his dry throat and sighed, sitting up in his chair.

"You know, it really is quite horrific that even though you haven't washed your hair for three days, it's still as thick and lush as usual... in fact, the sweat makes it attractively darker, Usagi-san," Misaki grumbled, fiddling around with his own hair. Akihiko blinked and looked down at his lap, scratching out a white fleck on the knee of his black trousers. In the past four years or so, Misaki had begun to compliment Akihiko and Akihiko had to admit that the shyness he had once cursed in Misaki now seemed less foolish; it was very disconcerting to hear Misaki, his loved one, flatter him so openly and so honestly. He felt admired and abashed. He felt loved. "I'm... I'm so sorry-" Misaki suddenly began in a quiet, tearful voice.

"If you even dare apologise, I'm going to rip that gown off you right now and fuck you with the nurses in sight; they've all been waiting for some action since we got here." It was true- ever since Akihiko had come out to the public, women had worshipped their 'romantica' love. In the eyes of females across the country, they were pure love personified. Initially, it had freaked Misaki out, but since realising the help it was doing for homosexuals, he had grown used to the media attention and demurely inclined his head whenever Akihiko and he walked out of the apartment, cameras flashing as they held hands.

"But-" Misaki started, leaning forward.

"I've wanted to get a new car for months, now," Akihiko sniffed, pulling down the cuffs of his shirt from his elbows to his wrists and retying his purple tie. Misaki blinked at him, unaware that he was nervously picking at the skin around the white crescents of his nails. "You've actually done me a service," Akihiko said, as he stood up and tucked his shirt into his trousers. Misaki assayed the ash-like curves beneath his red-rimmed eyes and the silver stubble about his jaw. Akihiko seemed to forgo the rules of Nature: where most hunched over and sprouted white hair with age, Akihiko seemed to tone still and his hair darkened to a stormy grey. Admittedly, it had lost the shimmer of silver it had once had. But he was still devilishly handsome. Both men and women couldn't ogle him enough, something which Misaki found more and more difficult to cope with as the years lapped over.

"I've let you down," Misaki competed, staring mournfully down at his lap.

"You drove me to Hell and back, yes. But... you're safe. You had my number as your emergency contact... you made sure you'd be secure because you listed me as such. For that, you have done me proud. I couldn't give a flying fuck about that car. You've alive. Breathing. Comfortable. Thus, I am happy." Akihiko leaned down and pinched Misaki's chin between his thumb and index finger, gently. He kissed Misaki's lips, with slow, warm affection.

"Hey!" Misaki protested through the kiss. "I haven't brushed my teeth in days! Stop!"

"_No_," Akihiko said, defiantly slicing his tongue between Misaki's lips. Misaki couldn't help but fall back into his pillows. His hands glided into Akihiko's hair as he kissed him back. Akihiko's stubble was like grit against his skin and made him tingle to his toes. He squirmed as he remembered that people might be watching. When Akihiko pulled back, he scrutinised the cut between Misaki's eyebrows. "They should probably put more cream on that. I'll go and get a nurse. Would you like a drink?"

"Water," Misaki rasped, dizzy from Akihiko's kiss. He cleared his throat to repeat himself, but Akihiko put a finger to his lips.

"I heard you. I'll be right back." With that, he winked and strode to the door. Misaki groaned inwardly as he heard the swooning sighs of the interns outside the door. He closed his eyes and for a brief moment, dragged up Akihiko's coat from the foot of the bed and lay with it over his body. He could smell the tea, smoke and sweat that characterised Akihiko on the collar and relaxed instantly. God, he was lucky.


	36. Rainbow

Drabble No. 36! Please review.

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

This is a continuation of chapter 35; Misaki and Akihiko have been together for eight years, Misaki had accepted his sexuality and the Romantica pair are used to the pap since Akihiko came out. See if you notice if anyone else has 'changed' ; ) Misaki and Shinobu are taking second courses at the University. None of the pap have been violent or barracking so far, however. Until now...

Warning: Offensive language to homosexuals; this is not a reflection on my opinions, only an illustration of the opinions of others.

Many thanks to Katlynn888 who pointed out some errors I must take heed to rectify. EDIT DONE.

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><p><span>'Rainbow'<span> - _All the colours of Junjou in all their splendour_

"Class ended." Shinobu exhaled in relief, puffing out his cheeks for extra effect. He slid his books into his satchel, hiked it onto his shoulder and followed, in procession, the ten other students.

"_Thank you, see you next time, Mr. Grey_," each student said, in English. A few had trouble pronouncing 'Grey', saying 'Gur-ay'.

As Shinobu entered the hallway, he noticed Miyagi walking in the throng of students and teachers alike who were leaving the University. Carrying a stack of papers, Miyagi looked over at Shinobu for one, flashing second, baring a very daring smirk. Shinobu scowled at him and then looked down at his feet as he moved forward in the slow stampede. He smiled to himself and he was sure that Miyagi, though he was at least two metres away from him on the other side of the now claustrophobic passage, saw this evidence of arousal.

The second Shinobu passed through the double doors at the end of the hallway, he took a sharp turn around the redbrick, low wall that led to the teacher's car-park. He didn't think anyone had noticed him. The sky was indescribably high that day, the clouds shadowed with a bluish line and the sun hidden behind one. A few seconds later, as Shinobu neared the silver Mercedes that was Miyagi's, the man himself rounded the corner, a devilish glint in his navy eyes. His black tie, just as black as his hair, was loose around the white collar of his shirt and his brown briefcase swung in his hand.

"That text message this morning didn't exactly help your case, boy," Miyagi said as he swaggered toward Shinobu. With careless grace, Shinobu leaned up against the door of the car and propped a foot up behind him for good measure.

"I'm a teenage boy; I have needs. You denied those needs last night and so I felt you ought to pay."

"Fag!" a voice suddenly bellowed. Miyagi spun on his heel as Shinobu's neck jerked out towards the offensive sound.

"What the-" Shinobu began.

"Don't," Miyagi ordered, holding a hand out to Shinobu, but Shinobu had already sped around the corner, dodging Miyagi's grab for him.

Outside the front of the school, an independent film crew stood ready at the gates, a brown-haired boy trapped by their physical and verbal harassment. Shinobu was about to race to the stranger, for the moral mission of defending their joint sexuality, but a tall, silver-haired man beat him to it. In one lunge, he had pushed himself through the mini crew to stand next to the boy. Miyagi joined Shinobu at his side as they watched the scene five metres away.

"That's Usami Akihiko," Miyagi informed Shinobu, with a slight air of astonishment in his voice. Shinobu looked up and saw that an element of awe had sheened over his eyes. "Stay here," Miyagi growled.

"But-" Miyagi rounded on Shinobu.

"_Respect your elders._" Miyagi's voice rumbled with authority and though he hated to do it, Shinobu nodded and stayed rooted to the spot as Miyagi strode towards the scene. An arc of students was bubbling behind the boy and his 'knight-in-shining-armour'; Usami's hair did seem to shimmer like armour... almost menacingly. His fitted black suit outlined his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Miyagi, whose muscular frame was all too obvious in his white shirt, was by the famous author in seconds. Slowly, with the wariness of a squirrel crossing a park path, Shinobu neared so he could hear what was said.

"Fag?" Usami asked, deadly. He slid off his dark sunglasses and revealed a dagger-sharp, poisonous purple glare. "Wow... I really am _shocked_ at your witlessness and unintelligence." As he spoke, he glanced to his right to see Miyagi flanking him. They were an intimidating pair.

"What's going on here?" Miyagi demanded. He narrowed his eyes at the one holding a microphone defiantly to the brown-haired one. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," she squeaked, almost proudly. Her blonde bob swished, proudly.

"We should show you to the Prime Minister as proof of the idiocy that infiltrates and infests our educational institutions. Media students, are you?" Usami interrogated, glowering down the camera-boy, who nodded feebly.

"We-We're entitled to our opinions," he warbled.

"Just as a prisoner is entitled to books," Miyagi countered, folding his arms over his chest.

"It's an dangerous thing when idiots are armed with fragments of knowledge; like broken stained-glass under the feet," Usami continued for him, his chest puffing out primalistically.

"I suggest you leave the premises and consider yourselves suspended," Miyagi spoke, coldly. Shinobu stared wide-eyed at his lover, sparks of pride and fear igniting inside of him; how much did this group know? Would they post their film online? There was a great chance Miyagi would be fired if anyone knew about their relationship... his feet moved without any signal from his brain. He was behind Miyagi in the arc of students, just within his line of sight. He tried to send a warning vibe to the man and he seemed to get it, because he repeated himself as soon as his eyes fell sharply on Shinobu for a milisecond. "Leave the premises." Usami stood in front of the silent student as Miyagi spoke, daring any of the group to move on him. How this ridiculous vendetta were still there, Shinobu didn't know, until he concluded that they must be frozen stiff in their places.

"What's going on?" Kusama-sensei, formerly 'Kamijou', suddenly appeared at the school doors and he flitted forward, looking to Miyagi for an explanation. His jagged hair bounced a little on his sharp shoulders as his brown eyes narrowed to ireful slits.

"These pipsqueaks have just called-"

"Misaki," Usami filled in, quickly.

"A-Akihiko? What are you doing here?" Kusama-sensei hissed at Usami, under his breath.

"_Misaki_ a 'fag'. They feel they have the right to persecute him on film. I've just ordered them off the premises." Hiroki's infamous rage flourished.

"What kind of punks are you?" he spat. His arm shot forward and he yanked the camera from the quivering boy.

"The _imbecilic _kind, evidently," Usami seethed. The girl, the leader of the tribe, swallowed and tried to give evils at Usami, but failed and ended up staring at the floor, her frown trembling.

"Akihiko, don't cuss at our students," Kusama-sensei sighed, though his face spoke of a thousand and one curses.

"They cussed at-" Usami began.

"Fag, am I?" The boy had finally spoken. Shinobu looked him up and down and noticed something fizzing in Misaki's green eyes.

"Takahashi," Kusama-sensei warned.

"It's Usami," Akihiko corrected.

"Let the boy defend himself," Miyagi interrupted. Kusama grumbled something and then settled on dispersing the students who were circled around. They moved a little way off but still remained under trees by the bus-stop, ears perked. After, he spent a couple of minutes a little way off, on his mobile phone.

"By fag, I assume you mean homosexual?" Shinobu suddenly spoke. There was silence. Miyagi glared at Shinobu before donning his teacher persona once more.

"Takatsuki, you're not involved, leave the premises," 'Yoh-sensei' ordered.

"Yeah, I mean homosexual. Homo_sick_ual more like!" the girl flared.

"That's enough!" Miyagi roared, taking a threatening stride towards the gang. They freaked and stumbled back a few steps but did not leave.

"The police are on their way," Kusama-sensei informed, returning with military calmness. As a trio, they were formidable: Kusama's wrath and influence, Usami's tongue and evident power and Miyagi's strength, both physically and mentally. All were united by physical stamina and intelligence.

Shinobu wondered why this Usami hadn't just taken Misaki away but realised the implications this would have; the press would eat them like vultures. If they showed any fear it would advocate that they were vulnerable to attack. Usami was bearing his fangs, so to speak.

"If I am a fag, then you better watch out," Misaki spat, "because I'll stub out on you when you least expect it." Everyone was shocked at the malice that spewed forth from the innocent looking student. Usami was practically exploding with whatever sort of warped glee was sparkling in his eyes. "I may look small but-"

"You're all going to get white-collar jobs and make a living fucking other people over whilst other people _fuck_ the ones they love, day in and day out. And yes, you prudes, by 'fuck', I mean 'have sex with'."

"Takatsuki!" Both Miyagi and Kusama-sensei scolded Shinobu. Shinobu glanced at Miyagi and could see a proud smile tugging at the corner of his mouth but a second later it had vanished.

"Go home," Miyagi ordered again, dangerously close to revealing their relationship.

"Oh, what, are you all banging each other or something?" spoke the so-far-silent guy who was holding a boom.

"You will turn to ash before the smoke blows out of your ugly, little asses," Usami hissed, his upper lip twitching scarily.

"Thanks for giving us something to work wi-" the girl began, taking a turn to leave. She switched off her microphone and walked into a frightfully tall man who had just come behind them. She looked up. Everyone could tell she was deciding whether to smile at the stranger or run from him. Kusama Nowaki stared down at the girl blankly and did not move. He sent a look to Kusama-sensei, who was still holding the camera, seemingly deciding what to do with it.

"What's happening?"

"Ahh, Nowaki, perfect timing. We were in need of a giant," Usami joked. 'Nowaki' smiled, half-heartedly. His bluey-black hair interested Shinobu for a moment.

"Take that microphone off her, would you?" Kusama-sensei requested. Nowaki did so without trouble, ignoring the cowardly little gasp the girl gave. He threw it to Kusama-sensei easily.

"How do I destroy one of these things?" Kusama-sensei fiddled with it.

"Hand it here," Shinobu said, holding out a hand.

"You're still in for detention for swearing on school grounds, Takatsuki," Kusama-sensei said as he handed the mic to Shinobu. Shinobu tried to unpick the cable at the bottom of the microphone but to no avail. In one swift action, Usami snatched the microphone, threw it to the ground and stamped on it once with one foot. The desecration of the object, a difficult one to destroy, was what scared the gang off officially. Here was a metaphor displayed for the truly ignorant: voices of the vicious, you shall meet the wrath of the virtuous. They scrammed.

"Oh no you don't." Nowaki stretched out his arms and barred all three of the offenders. He pushed them back and Usami Akihiko, Yoh Miyagi and Kusama Hiroki grabbed one each from the back, around the shoulders. They struggled for a second before realising it was truly futile.

"Nowaki, would you take these two to their individual homes? Their addresses should be on this student sheet." Kusama-sensei handed a piece of paper to Nowaki.

"I can get home by mysel-" Shinobu began.

"Who knows what paparazzi have been called, Takatsuki. Just get in the car with Doctor Kusama and let him take you home. You too, Takaha... I mean, Usami," Kusama-sensei ordered. Misaki gave an indescribable look at Usami- Shinobu wasn't sure whether it was apologetic or angry- and followed Doctor Kusama. Without looking at Miyagi, Shinobu followed behind.

The police arrived a second later.

Ten days after, Usami Akihiko's latest novel was published: '_The Vexed Rainbow'_. Both the Kusama and Yoh households received a free copy. It was a book about a struggling homosexual in high school, dealing with bullies whilst trying to maintain a relationship with a boy in denial. It had been released for the Gay Pride charity of Japan. It had been released in high schools across the country, to both critical acclaim and a resounding, aghast reaction from parents and teachers alike. On the blurb was a very familiar, quoted passage:

_"Fag!"_

_"Fag? Wow... I'm really quite surprised at your lack of wit and intelligence. I should show you to the Prime Minister as evidence of the idiocy that infiltrates our education system. You're going to grow up, get a white collar job and live off the dirty money you make fucking people over, whilst I fuck the one I love, every night. So, I'm a fag... hah, if I am, then you better watch out, because I will stub out on you when you least expect it. You'll be a pile of ash before the smoke blows out of your pretty, little ass."_

On the second page of the book was the message:

_I must give my thanks to Yoh Miyagi; Professor and Doctor Kusama; Takatsuki Shinobu and- as always- Usami Misaki. I shall be forever indebted. Please accept the following story as my gift to all the struggling; proud; scared; fierce men and women across the world._

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><p>Please review .<p> 


	37. Adventure

Drabble No. 37! Please review.

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

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><p><span>'Adventure'<span>

Hiroki

_How lost are the men that search for Heaven in their lovers, when Hell offers so rich an abundance of lust._

Akihiko was obviously going through a cynical phase. Hiroki read the sentence with a confused sort of comprehension. It was true that the majority of men seemed ironically hellbent on reaching St Peter's Gates, finding utter perfection with their partners without realising what they actually wanted a coalition of Heaven and Hell combined: Earth, really.

It washed over Hiroki then how lucky he was. Behind him, Nowaki gave out a little snore and the crackle of material told him he had turned his head on the pillow.

Here's how it was: Nowaki was lying on their bed, conked out after a particuarly long shift and Hiroki was sat cross-legged between his parted legs. It was a position they assumed most nights. Hiroki loved it, really. He didn't need constant excitement; this right here was his adventure and he couldn't have found a more perfect partner in crime.

He reached the end of his oldest friend's latest manuscript and sighed; the boy had so much power over Akihiko. What was worse was that the boy, this 'Misaki', wasn't even partly aware of his impact on the man. He had met the kid about four times so far and each time had been surprised at how sweet he was. But the claws came out the second anyone offended Akihiko... it was very cute.

Hiroki had seen arousal perk Akihiko up many times in the past, but they were all one-night-stands. Even so, it wasn't like Akihiko wasn't the ultimate bachelor. If you needed one night of passion, one night of luxury, _one_ night of whatever semblance of love you could cling to- Akihiko was your man. At least, he had been until nine years ago. His libido had been cock-whipped and clipped to a leash twirled around Takahashi (now Usami) Misaki's wrist for nearly a decade.

Now, though, Misaki had journeyed off on some excursion around the world, funded by Akihiko... and the man was not pleased.

Akihiko

The TV was blaring something raucous and mad, some comedy quiz show that Japan was raving about. The new Friday night hobby.

Sighing, Akihiko rolled on the sofa and turned his back to the plasma screen and began to chew the hangnail on his thumb. This was a habit he had started only two years ago. He couldn't even remember how it had started.

Aside from the sore light of the television, the apartment was sunk in darkness, aided by Akihiko's mournfully apathetic mood. He was chronically horny.

Suddenly, the intrusive sound of the door bell 'buuuurred' through the condo. Akihiko closed his eyes and wished the visitor away. But they persisted. Thinking it might have been Aikawa, Akihiko sighed and stood up, bare feet cold on the floor as his long, pale arms- now much more muscular since he had bought a motorbike three years ago- swung loosely at his sides. Ever since Aikawa had helped him get back together with Misaki, well, countless times and had helped to arrange their wedding, he had a moral duty to answer her every call. Well, moral duty... more like Misaki's voice in his head, barracking him every time he tried to ignore her.

His army-green t-shirt was stretched over his broad chest and his jeans, frayed at his ankles, fit very snugly.

He pressed the answer button on the door phone.

"I forgot something."

Akihiko jolted, his heart rammed painfully against his ribcage in one, shocking beat.

"Misaki?" Akihiko asked, hoarsely. There was an embarressed silence.

"Just let me in, would you? It's freezing out here." Akihiko closed his eyes; he still wasn't quite used to the new, lower note of his husband's voice. He pressed the button and swung the door open into the hallway, awaiting Misaki's arrival from the elevator.

Less than ten seconds later, the lift doors opened...

And there he was.

It had only been two weeks since he had last seen him and yet Misaki appeared to have grown... again. It worried Akihiko that the boy would become taller than he was but Misaki had assured him that if he ever did, he would sit down when Akihiko was stood up or go on his knees to comfort his ego.

Along with his grown figure, now lanky and defined by lithe muscle, his confidence had developed too. Still shy and bashful, the boy had managed to come to terms with his feelings. This weakened Akihiko even more.

He looked at Misaki's face.

His jagged brown hair was mussed up and there were sleepy circles beneath his eyes. His checked shirt was wrinkled and his khaki, three-quarter lengths were splattered with mud from go-carting that morning.

They stood staring at one another for a moment before Misaki said,

"It was boring, dammit. I kept turning round whenever we saw _anything_, expecting to see you there... waiting for your..." Misaki blushed and looked down. "Hand to hold."

Something jammed up Akihiko's throat and he found himself rigid, unable to move.

"So, I came home. I didn't even make it to the airport this morning. I've only seen Kyoto... the rest of the guys are probably in France already..."

"Misaki, I..." _Don't know what to say..._

_"_We should go round the world together. It was stupid to go alone, really. You're the..." Misaki shook his head and looked up at Akihiko, smiling. "Have you had any dinner?"

Akihiko tilted his head to the side and his eyes melted into happy, purple pools.

"No," he replied.

"Knew you wouldn't have done. I brought home some take-out. You haven't bloody shaved, either. Bloody recluse. Here, take it so I can carry my- hey!" Akihiko had managed to unroot himself and had swished Misaki off his feet. Misaki's arms looped around Akihiko's neck.

"Bags later... food later..." Akihiko hid his nose behind Misaki's ear and exhaled, the tingles practically emanating off Misaki's skin. "Sex now," he growled, low.

"Akihiko," Misaki whispered in a low moan. "I'm hungry, really..."

"You'll be starving by the time I'm done with you," Akihiko promised as he carried Misaki into the house. He didn't turn on any lights. The TV remained on, ignored. His mouth began to suck deeply and his tongue began to lick languidly all the sensitive, well-visited spots on Misaki's neck. "Now what was it you stopped yourself from saying?" Akihiko asked as he walked slowly up the stairs. "I'm the... what?"

"Nothing," Misaki laughed, nervously, fingers tugging affectionately at the ends of Akihiko's silver hair as they got to the landing. Akihiko gave him a look of half warning, half seduction. Misaki stared defiantly back, his nervous smile still present.

They got to their shared room and Akihiko placed Misaki on the bed gently, coming over him almost instantly. They could see one another only by the moonlight that filtered all around the apartment.

Misaki's knees parted and he sighed, happily, his hands moving to caress Akihiko's considerable, bare biceps. Akihiko let out a low laugh and slid down Misaki's body, pushing up Misaki's shirt with two fingers. He began to sensually lick and nip Misaki's stomach.

"I'm the what?" Akihiko pressed, smirking. Misaki's hips raised reactively as his neck arched back and his eyes squeezed shut. His hands pushed into Akihiko's hair, fingers scrunching. Akihiko's hands slipped under Misaki's hips and he nuzzled into Misaki's groin. Misaki trembled from head to toe as Akihiko aroused a sorely sensitive part of him.

"_Gah..._"

"Come on, now, Misaki. You know how this game works... I'll get it out of your eventually. You might as well just give in and tell me."

"But I love this game," Misaki admitted, unexpectedly as he rolled his head to the side, biting his lower lip. Shocked for a moment, Akihiko regained his cool and resorted to a rarely used Ace. He nuzzled into Misaki's hip, fingers deftly undoing Misaki's buttons as he smoothed his hands up his chest. His thumbs began to pay very close attention to Misaki's pert nipples.

"Please," Akihiko begged, softly.

"Foul play," Misaki whispered back. Akihiko began to lap at the crevice of Misaki's pelvis like an animal cleaning a wound. The tip of his tongue flicked up at just the right moment, sending the blood buzzing south. "Adventure, alright? I was going to say 'You're the adventure' but then I realised what a pathetic sap that would make me..."

"That sounds like something I would say," Akihiko said, resting the side of his face on Misaki's abdomen. Misaki began to stroke Akihiko's hair into a side-parting and Akihiko hummed contentedly, closing his eyes.

"Well congrats, your mission to turn me into a corny sucker has been accomplished," Misaki huffed. Akihiko put a hand under his chin and looked up at Misaki, still resting on his stomach.

"Sucking isn't such a bad thing." Misaki blushed at Akihiko's words and gave him a scornful look...

Before they both grinned.


	38. Husband

Drabble No. 38! Please review.

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

I skipped a couple of days... I'm a bad person O.O

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><p><span>'Husband'<span>

Misaki walked into the condo, exhausted. His head felt like it didn't have a neck to support it, but a flimsy piece of string, so that any time he looked up to see where he was going, his head would flop forward like a rag doll's. His eyes were barely open and his limbs protested at any action, aching and dragging him down.

Lazily, Misaki went into the kitchen, with a mission to fulfil the last mission of the day (his full-on, twenty four hour day, in which he had stayed up with Aikawa at the Publishing House and helped God knows how many authors; getting them coffee, food- hell, even massaging the shoulders of one particuarly knackered illustrator). Without turning any lights on, he reached upwards, groaning as his as a shot of pain clung around the muscles inside his arm, into a cupboard and grabbed the black, crinkly packet.

Inside was the last remaining pain au chocolat from their trip to France last week.

His arm swung back down, heavily as he trudged to the stairs and set about snaking his way up them, like a chronically fatigued cobra.

He got to the landing, nearly crawling to Akihiko's room (even after all this time, he still thought of it as Akihiko's room even though he slept in there every night). He opened the door and groaned.

"A...kihiko," he croaked.

"Long day?" Akihiko's voice was muffled as he spoke into a pillow. Misaki didn't have to look up to know that his husband (God, it still felt so sublime to call him that) was in the bed, very near to conking out completely.

"As long as..." Misaki's brain refused point-blank to give him anything aside from a dull, threatening headache. "Can be," he finished, pathetically.

"Come to bed."

Misaki sighed and mustered up all the energy he could and managed to get himself upright and into the bed, kicking his shoes off in the process. Head on pillow, Misaki's headache vanished and exhaustion embraced his body like the comforting warmth of a mother. Relief buzzed through him.

Without opening his eyes, Akihiko reached a bare, muscled arm across and unzipped Misaki's blazer. Misaki grunted a sort of thank you and shuffled his shoulders to get out of it. Akihiko performed the same service for his jeans, without molesting him.

"Thank you," Misaki gasped. He hadn't realised how hot he had been until he lay there in his boxers and t-shirt, relishing the cool air. Akihiko's arm draped over Misaki's chest as Misaki shoved the chocolate pastry into his mouth.

He didn't even bite before he started to snore.

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><p>Review please ^.^<p> 


	39. Waddled

Drabble No. 39! Please review.

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

I skipped a couple of days... I'm a bad person O.O

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><p><span>'Waddled'<span>

"I don't want you to go."

"Nowaki, please! Let me go!" Hiroki struggled pointlessly in Nowaki's iron embrace. He exhaled and folded his arms. "If you don't let me go I'll..." _Damn this giant... there is no threat..._

"Don't go."

"Nowaki, it's only for a week-"

"With Usami Akihiko..."

"You don't have to be so goddamn dark about it!"

"I can't trust him."

"Oh, well, by definition, then, you don't trust me."

Nowaki's grip fell.

"I... I do trust you."

"Then what the hell is this about? And hurry up, because my bus leaves in five minutes." Hiroki refolded his arms as he stood by the door with his suitcase. He began to tap his foot and then stopped when he realised what a wifely thing that was to do. Nowaki stood in the hallway, large as life and momentarily dumb. He looked down at the floor, fingers flexing by his sides as he thought. "It just so happens that Akihiko is going to promote a new book and I'm going _to the same place_ for a teacher training course. We're friends, Nowaki, it would be silly if we didn't stay in the same hotel."

"In the same room!" Nowaki reacted, instantly, buying more time to think as Hiroki retorted.

"Oh for goodness sake! His plaything is going too."

"That bear?"

"No. That boy."

"Well... why don't you phone in sick? You detest those training courses."

I get paid to go."

"Money isn't-"

"I thought we were saving up to go on holiday." Nowaki was truly stumped at Hiroki's statement. "Right, well, seeing as this is a futile conversation, I'm just gonna go." Hiroki turned to the door but Nowaki grabbed his shoulder before he could open it. He spun him around and, with his finger, marked an 'x' just under Hiroki's green scarf, on the curve of his neck.

"This place is mine... I don't... if you sleep with him, he's not allowed to touch _this_ pla-"

Hiroki socked him in the eye.

"I DON'T WANT TO SLEEP WITH ANYONE ELSE! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! YOU STUPID, RIDICULOUS, THOUGHTLESS BEHEMOTH!"

"I-" Nowaki began, taking his hand off his reddening eye. A smile teased the corner of his mouth as he felt a warped pride flood through him; Hiro-san didn't want to sleep with anyone else.

"Don't you dare fucking smile. What the _fuck_ is this about? Are you intimidated by Akihiko or something? Scared he might be better in bed?" Nowaki flushed and glared at Hiroki. "I knew I shouldn't have told you about... about that _one_ time... Years ago!"

There was a deadly silence.

"Oh... Oh my God." Hiroki was baffled. "That's it, isn't it? That's fucking it! You think _I_ think he's better in the sack!"

Nowaki's tongue prodded under his lower lip as he slanted his gaze at the wall.

"You big kid, bloody immature-"

**_An hour later_**

"Where were you? We've missed the first bus. The second one comes in ten minutes."

Hiroki waddled to Akihiko. Akihiko opened his mouth to comment and Hiroki glared at him, daring him to make a comment.

"I'm not telling you anything, except this: _it's all your fault_."

As they waited at the coach stop, Hiroki rubbed the back of his head; it was still sore from where he had thrown it back in ecstasy. He hoped Nowaki was going to clean the hallway whilst he was away.

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><p>Review please ^.^<p> 


	40. Cheeky

Drabble No. 40! Please read and review ^.^!

I know I've missed a couple of days... _bad_ ImagineI *slaps own hand*

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><p><span>'Cheeky'<span>

"You know, it's my duty to fire you, Yōh?"

"Yes, sir..."

"An act like that is truly... well, who knows who could have entered? If Kamijou hadn't found you, who knows what student might have? Noises..." The headmaster blushed and joined his hands together on top of the desk. "Noises like that would have been curious to any student. My son goes to this school! He might have walked in."

_Oh, trust me, sir- he did a lot more than walk in. He was the one who provoked me to fuck him over the desk in my office... if it weren't for your son-_

_"_Don't you think we should make a rule on masturbation within school grounds? It is definitely improper." Miyagi sat in the chair opposite his boss and had to squeeze his hands into the tightest fists he could to stop himself from strangling Hiroki, who was standing right next to him.

"A fitting idea, Kamijou," Tasaki approbated. Miyagi ground his teeth together. In his mind, he could still see the cheeky little grin on Shinobu's face as he had hidden under Miyagi's desk. Hiroki had walked in to see Miyagi leaning over the desk, _au naturel _from the waist down.

"You are going to get it..." Miyagi seethed. He realised he had spoken outloud a moment too late.

"I'm ordering you on two weeks of probation. You obviously have many pent up emotions you need to sort out. You're too good a teacher for me to fire outright. Consider this a warning."

Following Miyagi's return home that evening, Shinobu was shown the error of his ways.

He was peculiarly ill for two weeks, resulting in his absence the whole time Miyagi was probated...


	41. Racing

Drabble No. 41! Please review.

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

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><p><span>'Racing'<span>

"I've never seen you exercise, you know that?" Misaki noted as he studied Akihiko's lithe torso, tortuously obscured by a pastel blue, fitting jumper. His long legs were crossed, black trousers hiding the tone of his calves and thighs. Misaki huffed. "How do you get to be so... toned without exercising?"

Initially, Akihiko was stunned at the inadvertent compliment Misaki had paid him; it was out of pattern for him to approbate him physically. Realising it was a honest comment, however, and not one laced with lust, Akihiko's eyes dimmed before he smirked.

"I do exercise," he averred. He glanced at Misaki next to him on the sofa.

"When?" Misaki pressed. Spying a dangerous glint in Akihiko's eye, Misaki waved his hands in front of him, frantically. "_That_ doesn't count!"

"On the contrary, I consider _that_, as you so disdainfully demote it, a hefty workout."

Heat tinged Misaki's cheeks as his skin tingled reactively to the knee-jerk thoughts of Akihiko's steady, forceful pants as he pounded into him with definite athletic elan.

"That can't be the only thing..." Misaki grumbled, glaring at the floor and scratching the side of his nose. Akihiko ruffled his hair and caught him round the neck in an affectionate headlock.

"My love, the cardiovascular effort required by my own pride to satiate your adolescent needs- no matter how denied they are by your own foolish prudishness- is akin to any professional sportsman's training."

"Arrogant, stupid-"

"I must do my best to _please_ you," Akihiko purred into Misaki's ear as he tucked the boy's feathery hair behind it.

"You really don't have to!" Misaki cried, pushing Akihiko away. Akihiko froze, not sure how to interpret the outcry. Misaki clenched his jaw and folded his legs, brow furrowing at his inclined his head. "You exert yourself on me and then have no energy for your work! How is that sportsmanlike!"

Akihiko paused and then laughed, heartily.

"Dear, my work would be non-existent if it were not for the inspiration you exact on my heart and mind."

"You really do talk a lot of crap, sometimes," Misaki asserted, bovine.

"If 'crap' is what you youths call 'truth' these days, then I concur with your dissertation."

"I'm not that much younger than you!"

"A decade-"

"Stop making me feel so inferior!"

Akihiko licked his lower lip and narrowed his gaze to needle-thin speculation.

"What's this really about?" Akihiko stretched an arm out on the back of the sofa as he watched Misaki blush and bite his lower lip. Akihiko perceived this and his pupils expanded considerably; this was Misaki's subconscious way of telling Akihiko he needed some... cardiovascular exercise.

Misaki stood up to march off in frustration, only to be yanked down onto Akihiko's lap.

"You know sex really is a wonder for calorie-loss," Akihiko whispered against Misaki's throat, eyes flicking to the gateaux on the kitchen counter. Misaki knew where he was looking and exhaled shakily, hands on Akihiko's shoulders.

"So...?" He shivered.

"So I think it's time that we get your heart racing."

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><p>Review please ^.^<p> 


	42. Guarantee

Drabble No. 42! Please review.

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

NOTE: I welcome any ideas for words for each chapter to surround; if you do happen to comment, which would be a very lovely thing for you to do, and have any words you would like me to do, say! I would be most grateful! Really, it would be very helpful to have some ideas from readers... even though I know it's my job to do it... I'm being a very cheeky author, I know...

I hope you enjoy this one!

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><p><span>'Guarantee'<span>

Miyagi paced the apartment like a caged wildcat, his mobile at his ear and thumb ready on the 'Call Back' button on the screen.

He'd been phoning Shinobu for the past half an hour, to no avail. Texts had not be answered either. It was six in the evening. The office Shinobu worked at had closed for holidays two hours ago.

"Come on, Shinobu, pick up..." A series of beeps played yet again, notifying the end of the allotted rings. Miyagi growled and threw his mobile to the sofa, proud at the relative restraint he had employed; if he could have, he would have thrown the phone out of the window in sheer frustration. But that would have been foolish.

_Childish,_ Miyagi thought to himself. _Juvenile, immature... I've been living with that damn kid too long._

But he wasn't a kid anymore. That was the warped thing. The epoch of time where Miyagi had been a definite adult and Shinobu a definite... criminal indulgence, had passed. The adulteration of their ages had now been nullified. There was still a seventeen year age gap, but it hadn't been so prominent once Shinobu had turned twenty eight; that was two years away from being thirty and when Shinobu was thirty-

_I'll be forty seven... which is three years from fifty... Fuck, he calls me an old man now; what if he sees a grey hair one day and bolts?_

Miyagi sank onto the sofa and checked his phone for a text or missed call. Nothing. It would have vibrated for both but Miyagi had reached the pedantic stage, where, for example, the vibrate hadn't worked for the one time he needed it to, or the pillows of the sofa had muffled the sound. It went on and on and on around his head.

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. There was still a red splotch just by the light, where two years ago Shinobu had shocked Miyagi from a nap by straddling him and blowing in his face, bored no doubt. Miyagi had thrown his bowl of pasta into the air. The sauce had gone everywhere and anywhere it hadn't gone accumulated on Shinobu's head as the bowl fell perfectly onto it; like a ceramic hat. After Miyagi had calmed Shinobu down, they'd fucked on the sofa.

Something definitely vibrated then and it wasn't his phone. In all honesty, Shinobu had fucked Miyagi, with all the vigour and energy of a lusty twenty six year old. It turned Miyagi on to no end to see Shinobu in his mind, arms bending behind his head, the lithe muscles of his torso writhing erotically in front of him as he gyrated with so much flexibility that-

"I'm home!" Shinobu had less than two seconds to close the door before Miyagi had him pinned up against the wall next to it.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he growled, one arm cocked over Shinobu's head, legs parted just enough to block Shinobu in. Shinobu gasped instinctively before taking a look at Miyagi. He smiled.

"Worried, were you?" he teased.

"No, it's a favourite pastime of mine to stand in the middle of a room and call someone endlessly, not being answered. It's a real fucking perk-up," Miyagi replied, deadpan.

"Well, you wouldn't have had to if you looked beyond the end of your nose," Shinobu chided. "I wrote you a note to say I was going out for a drink with friends when the day ended."

"If there was a note, I would have seen it."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Well, if you stopped acting like a bloody gorilla and let me out, I'd show you the note."

"Go the fuck ahead," Miyagi said, a tad too venomously.

"Jesus, what's tipped your lifeboat?"

"I-!" Miyagi took a deep breath and folded his arms over his chest after loosening his black tie. He watched Shinobu dump his bag on the sofa before sitting down and lifting the white mug on the table in front of him.

"Let me tell you what happened before you ground me," Shinobu scolded. He pointed to a piece of paper right under the mug, which now had a damp ring on it from the overflow of tea. "You got in and called for me. I wasn't here, so you sent me a text. You got paranoid when I didn't reply straight away and hated yourself for it, so you told yourself to make a cup of tea. In the time it took for the kettle to boil, the tea to stew and all the rest, you thought I would have replied. I didn't. So, you carried your cup of tea through to the living room and put it on the table, not bothering to take notice of the note, written here in huge letters for your old-man, blind-as-a-bat eyes. You turned the TV on, rang me as the adverts came on. When I didn't reply you ensued a rally of phone-calls. Am I right?"

Miyagi licked his lower lip and then bit the inside of it, staring off to the side. He mumbled something.

"I didn't hear you."

"Yeah, all right. That's what happened."

"Good, we're getting somewhere. Care to come here and read the note?"

Miyagi licked the back of his teeth, unfolded his arms and rolled his shoulders before walking over and joining Shinobu on the sofa. He snatched the note from Shinobu's hand, who scoffed and got up to make himself some food in the kitchen.

'_Going for a drink after work, will be back around seven. Watch the beginning of that crime programme so you can tell me what happened when I get back. I'll be back before the end of it. Hope you can show me what a lucky guy I am when I get back- if you haven't fallen asleep before nine-' _Here, Shinobu had drawn a cute little winking face. '_Seeya later_'. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

Shinobu joined him back on the sofa.

"So. That's where the fuck I was. You haven't even watched that programme either. Idiot," Shinobu joked, starting into his noodles.

"How was the last day of work?" Miyagi grumbled.

"Fine, yours?"

"Not too bad..."

"Mm."

There was an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry..."

"Pardon?"

"I said, I'm sorry!" Miyagi shot up and walked in a sort of circle before staring down at Shinobu.

"Fuck, I should log that- time and date, please."

"Stop it."

"No, you stop it! You've been so lame recently! Yeah, sure, you didn't see a note. Big deal! Are you forgetting that I just ignored at least an hour's worth of texts and phone calls? That's not cool. I should have answered."

Miyagi narrowed his eyes at Shinobu, who continued to eat his noodles after he spoke, calmly.

"What... What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, where's your fucking spine gone!"

Miyagi swallowed, confused. His throat stung. Shinobu caught a look of half worry, half hurt on his lover's face. He put his bowl on the table and stood up, going over to him. He just about managed to put his hands on Miyagi's shoulders.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked, putting a hand on Miyagi's cheek. Miyagi blinked and got lost for a couple of seconds in Shinobu's stormy grey eyes.

"You were... trying to provoke me?" Miyagi asked, dazedly.

"Pretty much. I came back earlier than planned, as well. I got bored without you there, really." Shinobu folded his arms and gazed at Miyagi, amused. "So, what's been bothering you?" Shinobu concluded.

"Noth-"

"Don't lie to me, Miyagi. I know you too well." Miyagi swallowed. "God, you're just not going to admit it, are you! I hinted at it in the note and everything!"

"What-"

"I don't care that you're getting older, Miyagi!" Shinobu cried. Miyagi was stunned. "I don't care that you fall asleep before nine or that it's rare we have sex more than three times in a night... hell, if we do it more than three times a week, it's pushing it! I'm telling you not to worry about it. I'm not getting younger. It's not like I hit twenty five and expected the world to spread its legs..."

"I..."

"Sure, it would be nice to be like we used to be years ago. I'm so fucking lucky to have had you at eighteen! You saw yourself when you were thirty five; you were fucking hot! Broad shoulders-" Shinobu swept his hands over Miyagi's shoulders- "Hunky body-" Shinobu's hands smoothed over Miyagi's shirt- "The libido of a twenty year old..." Shinobu's hands held lightly onto Miyagi's belt. Miyagi cleared his throat, not able to hold back his small smirk. "Finally, that smirk of yours." Shinobu gave him a quick peck. "You've been worried that I've got bored of you or that I've seen the grey hairs and been freaked."

"What! What grey hairs!"

"Oh come on... you're salt and pepper all over. Well, actually it's more silvery than white..."

"Not helping." Shinobu raised an eyebrow at this.

"I don't know why you're so sensitive about it; I think it's really sexy."

"You do?"

"Hell yeah. I get _man_ to come home to. More than that, you're intelligent and think with more than your dick." Miyagi opened his mouth to concur with this, intellectually. "_Most_ of the time," Shinobu finished. Miyagi gritted his teeth.

"Stop acting like such a lamb because you're scared that if you don't act like some sort of horny alpha male I'm going to get bored. I'm in for more than sex in this relationship, you know. It's not like I'm gonna leave now and find a younger model... No one would buy you from me, anyway!" Shinobu laughed, rather cruelly.

"Yeah, let me guess, I've passed my sell-by date."

"Actually, you've exceeded your guarantee- I wouldn't want to part with such excellent quality-" Shinobu stroked down from Miyagi's belt- "_Equipment_."

Miyagi's smirk curved upward and he inhaled, his chest puffing out.

"You're still in the same shape you were a decade ago," Shinobu whispered, wrapping his arms around Miyagi's waist and stepping on Miyagi's toes to reach for a kiss. "Just with a little more... padding... I like it."

The fear inside Miyagi was slowly but surely dissipating. All of what Shinobu was saying had in fact been bothering him for the past couple of months. That it wasn't bothering Shinobu was a huge stroke on his ego.

"You like it, do you?" Miyagi whispered, smiling as he angled down for the kiss.

"Very much so," Shinobu muttered, nipping Miyagi's lower lip.

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><p>Review please ^.^ Send me suggestions for any words you'd like, if you'd like! It would be much appreciated!<p> 


	43. Honey

Drabble No. 43! Please review.

Thank you to everyone for your generous compliments. Please never shy from telling me things you feel I need to improve, or things you don't like.

NOTE: I welcome any ideas for words for each chapter to surround; if you do happen to comment, which would be a very lovely thing for you to do, and have any words you would like me to do, say! I would be most grateful! Really, it would be very helpful to have some ideas from readers... even though I know it's my job to do it... I'm being a very cheeky author, I know...

I hope you enjoy this one! It's a shortie! Like shortbread, hopefully! I have no idea where that came from...

This is inspired by seiyalovesodango09 : )

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><p><span>'Honey'<span>

_Life is sweet_, Akihiko thought, as he lapped away the honey from Misaki's ankles.

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><p>Review please ^.^ Send me suggestions for any words you'd like, if you'd like! It would be much appreciated!<p> 


	44. Young

Drabble No. 44! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

NOTE: I'D like to say, each of these drabbles are stand alone pieces, unless mentioned in this here note part. So, though Takahiro might know about Misaki and Akihiko in one, he may not in another...

This was inspired by Katlynn888- a note to you: a) thank you ^.^ b) I will be using your actual word for a different idea stemming off your review- crabby uke etc. : ) But know that this was inspired by the word 'Kids'.

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><p><span>'Young'<span>

"I am a sentient creature!" Akihiko shouted, hoarsely. The living room seemed to quake with his wrath, sunlight morphed from golden to cold-en. His right arm struck the air by his side, hand a fist as he seethed. "You cannot expect me to jail my heart; my emotions!"

"Akihiko, please! I just don't want-"

"Misaki, you should know by now that I will do anything you want. Anything. Any time." His voice had quietened as he flexed his fingers over his brow and bent his neck down.

"Then don't make this a drama!"

"Drama?" Akihiko mocked, whispering. He looked up. "Drama," he repeated, seemingly bemused. "Misaki..." he struggled for a moment and inhaled, shakily. "This is reality. We are... married, Misaki-" a weak smile trembled onto his face as he sank onto the sofa, beseeching the floor for some succour of comprehension. "Married." Akihiko bent over and raised his eyes to Misaki, who was backed against the kitchen counter on the side in the living room; it looked like he had been cornered, though it could have only been by Akihiko's impassioned words.

"Akihiko... I'm hurting you, I can see that, but..." Misaki's breathing was shallow. He gulped, cold sweat clammy on his skin. "I can't disappoint him, Akihiko... I can't..." Misaki choked on his last words. Akihiko was heaving, steadying his heart. He didn't hate Misaki. He didn't hate him at all. He fully understood why Misaki wanted to keep their relationship hidden from Takahiro. But it had gone far enough.

"No one came to our wedding, Misaki. No one, except my cousin and my editor."

"None of the rest of your family came, either."

"Misaki, I don't think you're quite getting this: you didn't invite your brother, the one who practically raised you and fed and clothed you, to your wedding."

"Don't make me feel guilty for that! Don't even try! I feel guilty for it every day!" Misaki cried out, taking a step forward in frustration.

"Then why not-"

"What more can I give you? What more can I give him! I tell him we're married, that we're in a relationship, ok? Then what? It's not like..." Tears suddenly trickled from Misaki's eyes, slipping over his cheeks and sliding down his neck. A fist clenched Akihiko's heart. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly before Misaki spoke. "I can give him a... or more importantly, you a... a-" Misaki had an arm wrapped around his stomach as his forehead creased, tears spilling constantly. Akihiko could almost taste the salt. Misaki's lips were going dry as they spread out in a mournful gape. He was still trying to talk. "I can't give you a..." Misaki's hands raked through his hair. "Son..." he seemed shocked the word had come from his lips, that that was where he had been heading to. Silence clattered around them as Misaki slid, much like one of his tears, down the side of the kitchen counter and packed his head behind his raised knees.

Akihiko was frozen on the sofa, hands clasped together, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. He should be down there comforting Misaki, he knew that. But grief had chained and fettered him. He should have predicted that Misaki's upset had nothing to do with what he had originally claimed; it never was.

"I know we've been trying to-to adopt," Misaki gasped through his sobs. He raised his head, hair sticky on his forehead. "But I can't give a nephew to my brother, or-or a niece!"

"That's not your responsibility..." Akihiko muttered, throat dry. Misaki heaved through a stone of pain in his chest.

"I know! I hate myself for even-" A few, quick shuddering breaths- "even thinking about it like that."

Akihiko let Misaki sob for a few moments, knowing it would calm him before releasing himself from the sofa and joining Misaki on the floor, next to him. He raised his knees and looked down at his shaking lover.

"There is a baby out there, an _existence_, that will be our son or daughter." Akihiko raised one, large hand and began to soothingly stroke Misaki's hot hair back. It seemed to help Misaki's breathing. "If anything..." Akihiko weighed in his head whether it was the right time for comedy. "If anything, it's my fault for not having magic jizz." Misaki's breaths halted completely. He scrutinised the middle distance before looking up at Akihiko with the same expression. Had Usami Akihiko, _Lord_ Usami Akihiko, prolific novelist and aristocrat, just said... 'jizz'?

"Did you just say... what I think you said?" Misaki asked, sniffling. To him, the sniffs were disgusting; to Akihiko, adorable. Akihiko looked back at Misaki as neutrally as possible before his lips cracked into an unstoppable smirk.

"Yes." Misaki clipped Akihiko round the back of the head before he smiled himself. He shook his head.

"Jerk." A little bit of laughter came through the word. Akihiko smiled at the music.

"Me? You're the one who doesn't have a womb, I can't believe how selfish you are for not having one." He was teasing. Misaki gaped and then pushed Akihiko's shoulder, hard.

"Bastard!" he gasped. But he was still smiling. The sunlight was beginning to shimmer again. The green eyes met the purple; dewy, lush grass cushioning a full, velvet crocus. A season seemed to pass. They were both young again, holding hands beneath a giant tree, gold sparkling through the cloven leaves. The apartment became a haven once more. Misaki took a deep breath. "I need... _we_ need to tell him." Akihiko put a finger under Misaki's chin and tipped it upwards, smiling warmly, languid.

"Thank you," he whispered.


	45. Teased

Drabble No. 45! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

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><p><span>'Teased'<span>

"Akihiko..."

"Kusama..."

"Oh, Akihiko- be polite."

"I'd love to, Hiroki, but your partner seems intent on impaling me with his eyes."

"I wonder why that would be." Hiroki poured some tea into Akihiko's cup, eyes flicking between Nowaki and Akihiko, who was sitting on the sofa opposite them with his long, beige coat still on. His arm was draped over the back. Nowaki was practically growling, sharpening his claws on the sofa sleeve.

"I've never seen you wear a T-Shirt..." Nowaki's voice was deadly. The other two blinked at Nowaki, Akihiko smirking just a little as he shrugged off his jacket and revealed the black t-shirt beneath. It looked very odd on Usami Akihiko but was nonetheless attractive, accenting the muscles of his chest and arms. Black didn't quite suit him though, without the appendage of another colour.

"And I've never seen you wear a tutu... sorry, is that how we play this game?" Akihiko teased. Hiroki was the only one who didn't know what was going on, although he had to admit that an unstoppable ribbon of attraction was rippling through his chest. Both Nowaki and Akihiko were wearing T-Shirts. It was a hidden fetish of his, to see the shade and shape of a toned body, but he would never admit it. Unfortunately, both active semes were very aware of Hiroki's penchant. Akihiko was winding Nowaki up.

It was working.

"Well, if the t-shirt annoys you so much, Kusama, I'll just take it o-" Akihiko's mobile buzzed in his trouser pocket, saving him from a fatal leap from Nowaki. Akihiko grinned and flipped open his phone. "Yes, Misaki, of course, I know how much you need and want me... I know you're hungry, ahahaha-" Akihiko's words were of course in no relation to the barracking his was receiving on the other end. He stood up and moved to the door, letting himself out.

Hiroki blinked.

"What the hell was that about? That's wasted tea, that is! And you- why were you so bloody het-" Upon a glance at Nowaki, Hiroki stopped. Nowaki was quite content, sitting back and reading a magazine.

Hiroki strode to the kitchen, convinced that his 'type' was an emotional wreck with a unquenchable libido, with just the tiniest ambsace for normality.


	46. Dream

Drabble No. 46! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

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><p><span>'Dream'<span>

Shinobu observed his lover, sitting there solemn as a crow on a drizzly grey day. He was watching the TV.

Stretching out his legs, Shinobu rested his feet in Miyagi's lap, hunting for a reaction.

Nothing.

As Miyagi cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at the atrocities on the screen, Shinobu- oblivious to the current, worldly strifes- rubbed his heel into Miyagi's inner thigh.

His ear twitched back.

Good. Finally.

Shinobu twisted his ankle just so and traced down Miyagi's zip with his toe. Thinking to appease him, Miyagi put a hand on Shinobu's foot and stroked for a couple of seconds, non-commitally. Shinobu huffed. He repeated his action with a little more elan, curving his toes and scrunching them inwards right over a particular sensitivity.

"Ah!" Miyagi's gasped, roughly. "Shinobu, please-"

"What?" Shinobu feigned innocence.

"You know perfectly well wh- Shinobu!" Shinobu repeated his action, this time including his other foot in the fun; rubbing it up and down Miyagi's leg, rhythmically.

"What?" Shinobu continued his game.

"There are some gravely horrific things on the News right now, that you should be taking seriously!"

"Why suffer for others when you can balance their woes with joy? Why stranger pleasure at the cold grip of pain?" Shinobu had hooked him and as he reeled him in, Shinobu slinked forward and clambered onto Miyagi's lap, straddling him and clenching his own thighs at Miyagi's hips. "What further _weight_-" this word was physically acted upon- "would you malign the world with? Surely it is a worser grievance to sink in misery when those sufferers are at the riverbed already; we conquer abject agony by prevailing atop it, planting our weight of happiness, augmented by love, on its scaly shoulders. We gift the beaten with breaths of euphoria, not pitying empathy; crippling tears."

"Where..." Miyagi cleared his throat, voice no more than the quietest of whispers. "Where did you find that?"

Shinobu kissed Miyagi softly on the lips, back to the News, and ran his fingers through the sides of Miyagi's hair.

"I read it in your notes, which I found in the bedside table." Shinobu rolled his hips, once and Miyagi gave a short exhale, enticed. "Not a very good hiding place, so obviously you wanted me to find it," Shinobu whispered, fumbling adorably with Miyagi's tie. Without warning, he bit Miyagi's lower lip, hard. Miyagi's hand shot up to his mouth in pain and shock. Shinobu remained an inch away. "I loved your notes," he breathed. He pushed Miyagi's hand away and nursed the small nick of blood on Miyagi's lip with his tongue, soon sucking it wetly like one does a juicy fruit. Miyagi groaned as Shinobu began to grind down on him with antagonising lentor.

"Professor! Wake up immediately!" Kamijou's voice rang in his ears and he startled, Shinobu still writhing on top of him. He felt a sharp slap on his face and he burst into reality, the light blinding. "You were drooling... again!" Kamijou spat and strode away from the office. Miyagi gathered his thoughts and only just managed to employ his legerdemain as two pens rolled off the desk he was sitting at. He caught them, scrutinised the tree outside the window in front of him, studying the sunlight's footsteps...

And then grabbed a sheet of paper and hurriedly scrawled those words he had heard Shinobu say in his dream.

How fitting it was that the first words of his novel were tongued by his own sweet muse...


	47. Masterful

Drabble No. 47! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

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><p><span>'Masterful'<span>

The room was buzzing with the dignitary of the publishing world. For once, Misaki was not attending a celebration of Akihiko's talents. He didn't resent them for the subject matter, more the discomfort they caused Akihiko.

Tonight, it was a gathering of many prolific, successful authors, illustrators and publishers, a get-together to reaffirm alliances and connect like-minded people. Basically, it was a scheme for everyone to gain contacts in order to further their work.

Akihiko was at the drinks table, getting two plastic cups of punch for himself and Misaki. As he careered back through the crowd, elegantly dismissing anyone who tried to fish-hook him into a conversation, he found Misaki speaking with a girl. He didn't blame the girl- Misaki did look particuarly fine in his new suit, hair longer than it had been when he was eighteen and lanky figure replaced with a lithe form. The girl had dark hair and a petite hour-glass figure flattered by a black sash around her blue dress. Jealously slit Akihiko's chest immediately, but after realising the non-existent threat (seeing his wedding ring on his hand), the slit turned into a little nick and he found himself some comedy in the situation. Misaki did not seem aware of his proximity, so he stood behind him and listened in to the conversation.

"So, you're Misaki, right?"

"Er, yeah," Misaki stammered.

"You're Aikawa's sidekick, practically, aren't you!" the girl squealed.

"I suppose," Misaki laughed. Akihiko didn't have to look to know that Misaki had reached to rub himself on the back of the neck- nerves and embarrassment.

"It's no wonder you're married to Usami Akihiko- you're really good-looking! I doubt he would have gone for anyone unattractive." The girl's voice had twisted to a more sultry tone, to which Akihiko raised his eyebrows and smiled, bemused. Misaki choked out the beginnings of a laugh before conquering his shyness and laughing heartily. Akihiko rolled his eyes and smiled some more, amused by how easy Misaki was for girls- stroke his ego once and you're in. It hadn't been that easy for Akihiko. Akihiko wondered if the girl was purposely ignoring the silver wedding band on Misaki's finger.

"He's not that shallow," Misaki replied, still chucking a little, though it was evident in his tone that he didn't believe the statement entirely. The girl laughed.

"Oh, you can be a genius and shallow, surely!" There was a little silence, quite uncomfortable really, pillowed slightly by the hum of accompanying, light-hearted banter around the room. Akihiko's eyes searched the floor as he waited for Misaki's reply. He felt quite nervous. Was he shallow?

"My husband is not shallow. Not one bit. I'm glad you find his work to be so masterful; it is- _he_ is." Akihiko nearly dropped the cups in his stiff hands. His heart exalted with the pride of Misaki's rare but powerful strength and confidence. Almost rage...

Then something bumped into his back. He stumbled and turned. Misaki glared up at him and then spun on his heel to return to the girl.

"He's a masterful prat, is what he is," he contradicted and with that, he took one drink from Akihiko's hand and vanished into the hallway. Akihiko blinked at the girl in a totally insensate nature and then followed his husband.


	48. Dance

Drabble No. 48! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

This drabble was inspired by Leonard Cohen's song 'Dance Me To The End Of Love'.

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><p><span>'Dance'<span>

Hiroki lazed on the sofa, the muted television golden in the otherwise unlit room. A wineglass was held limply in one of his numb hands as he drunkenly ogled Nowaki, bent over at the record player in the corner. What a fine ass that was...

Suddenly, a folksy, romantic song flew around the room; mysterious and heart-rendingly poetic.

Nowaki seemed to swim towards him, his hand outstretched.

"Dance with me?" he invited. Hiroki groaned in response and Nowaki chuckled, taking Hiroki's glass and putting it on the table before consuming the hand in his larger one. Hiroki was plucked from the sofa and- upright- he groaned again, throatily, in protest. Nowaki's strong arm embraced his waist as he held his other hand at the level of Hiroki's shoulder and he began to step from side to side, rhythmically; jovially.

_Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin _  
><em>Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in <em>  
><em>Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove<em>

The lyrics bathed Hiroki's body in a balmy heat... or was that Nowaki? All he knew was that he was safe; secure; home.

Nowaki's cheek rested against his and with his own free hand, Hiroki stroked Nowaki's arched back, profoundly touched that Nowaki would bend down for him. For immeasurable moments, he soaked himself in Nowaki. In that smell, that warmth and strength, all augmented by the man's visceral motion.

_Dance me to the end of love..._

Dazed, Hiroki whimpered ever so slightly as he reached his face upward to glide his nose against Nowaki's. Their lips met like raindrops meet a river and soon they were floating not in the glow of the TV, but the deliquesced amber of sunflower petals. Their breath dissipated, pillowing them as they rose higher and higher upward, hands held delicately, their pulses the adhesive to their ardor flying machine.

As Nowaki stepped a circle, Hiroki in his arms, Hiroki felt a hoop spin around them and he exhaled, exalting the Babylon of their affinity; infinity.

_Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove _  
><em>Dance me to the end of love...<em>


	49. Song

Drabble No. 49! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

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><p><span>'Song'<span>

_Through his fingers came his sweaty carnal desires; he skimmed them down the plains of Misaki's torso, diamonding around his tummy button._

_His tongue dipped in as his mind swam in the scent of his beloved, arms embracing around Misaki's waist: new bark to a tree._

_Misaki's arms plunged down, curving around Akihiko's neck. His face dominated by trepidant euphoria. Teeth in his lower lip. Biting, fighting, inviting Akihiko's ministrations._

_What score was he at the fingers of this maestro, his maestro? Was he a passion play or tragic plea?_

_This was no staccato song._

_Listen: a sostenuto smiting hate. Enmity's angels bash their fists to their ears to hear the lyric of love._

Akihiko's fingers curled into his palms. He blinked and looked over at his sleeping love- the muse of his now written fornication. He felt refreshed having written directly and exactly the scene he had acted in himself. Misaki's whispered admittances still stroked around his ears.

He smiled.


	50. Hustled

Drabble No. 50! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

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><p><span>'Hustled'<span>

The heat was visible in the air, wavering and almost oily as the sun glowed down on a Spanish holiday resort. Shinobu was lying on a deck chair near the small but deep, circular pool. The water hypnotised him; how could it be so blue? His eyes wandered up to the sky and within seconds he was mesmerised with the clouds, a consecution of shapes frolicking about the heavens.

When his eyes cruised aimlessly back down they instantly hit upon a tall, broad-shouldered man with a wide chest and muscled arms. Fine, black hairs hustled down his bare torso, the path hindered by a pair of bullet-grey swimming trunks. Miyagi.

He had just crashed up out of the water and it spilled delightfully over him, glittering on his shoulders and smoothing his black hair back off his forehead. Shinobu fell in love all over again and felt just a tiny bit scrawny in his green swimming trunks. He was about to call out to his partner, when a blonde-haired force beat him to it.

"Those laps looked really good," she squeaked, provocatively. She was twisting her hair over her shoulder, one foot raised onto its toes as she fluttered her eyelashes. In her hot pink bikini, with her tanned, toned stomach and calves, Miyagi didn't really stand a chance. She too was shimmering with post-swimming droplets.

He looked down at her- quite a considerable way down due to his height- and laughed diffidently, hands now on his hips.

"Oh, really, I'm so out of shape," he beamed, patting his washboard abs. He was basically asking the girl to scratch his tummy... _such a dog, _Shinobu thought as a volcano blistered his insides. He came up with a closely related word for the girl.

"So, are you from Japan?" she asked.

"Yeah- you don't look like you are, how come you know the language?"

"Lived there since I was fifteen."

"Ah," Miyagi indulged, grinning- _Like an idiot_, Shinobu added. "Well, enjoy your holiday. I must get back to my-"

"Could we get a drink later?"

**_SPLASH._**

"Shinobu!" Miyagi cried, in shock. The other people around the outside bar and pool gasped and look around. Miyagi went to dive in to save the girl who had been shoved in by a chronically jealous Shinobu, but her head broke the surface soon after. "Are you okay?" he asked, worry in his voice. Steam billowed from Shinobu's nostrils.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she spluttered, faking it.

"Not any more, you're not," Shinobu muttered before sweeping his foot around Miyagi's ankle, tripping him and tipping him over with a small poke on his shoulder. He plunged into the pool, right on top of the blonde. Lashings of water shot out as Shinobu sauntered away, more than content.


	51. Squeeze

Drabble No. 51! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

These are in regard to the true riots in London right now.

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><p><span>'Squeeze'<span>

_Romantica_

"God, would you... would you look at that..." Misaki sunk down next to Akihiko on the sofa, already stunned by the fact that Akihiko had used the word 'God'.

"What's going on-" Misaki began. But he stopped himself as his eyes almost caught fire from the images flashing on the TV. "Where is this?"

"London." Misaki blinked and fell back against the cushions as a gothic looking building combusted before his eyes, feral youths plaguing English streets; smashing shop windows, throwing Molotov cocktails. An aerial shot showed an abandoned street with three cars ablaze.

Akihiko's arm fell off the back of the sofa and draped around Misaki's shoulder. He gave him a short, stiff squeeze. Misaki blinked and felt a buzz vibrate through him.

"We're not in London, Akihiko. There's no need to-"

"There's no predicting a rebellion," he interrupted. Misaki sighed, part of him thankful that the news-slot had finished on the screen. He tentatively reached up his own hand and gave Akihiko's a momentary rub.

_Egoist_

"Hey, you should see these riots in London. They're pretty bad," Nowaki called from the living room. Hiroki sighed and flitted around the kitchen, shaking the frying pan of onions before hurriedly whisking the eggs.

"Kinda busy here," he called back. Hiroki managed to combine all the ingredients and was given a chance to take a breath as they cooked. Nowaki sauntered in.

"I feel for those police," he commented, leaning against the counter opposite Hiroki. Hiroki's arms were folded and his glare was directed at the floor. No one but Nowaki would know that he wasn't angry but tired. Very tired.

"Mm. Can't be a great time for them," Hiroki replied, distracted. Nowaki fell forward 180 degrees and planted his hands on either side of Hiroki's head, on the cupboards.

"Your mind's not quite here, is it?" Nowaki cooed. Hiroki's head snapped up to fire back some spiteful, thoughtless quip. But his eyes drowned in the cool waters of Nowaki's. Nowaki pressed a gentle kiss on Hiroki's forehead before falling back into place on the other side of the tiny kitchen.

_Terrorist_

"Thingymabob isn't a word!" Miyagi cried, exasperated.

"It says it is right here on this website," Shinobu muttered, moodily. Miyagi flicked Shinobu's Scrabble tiles off the board.

"New word. Don't get lazy."

Shinobu blinked and then shook out all the letters from the bag, cherry picking.

"You can't do-" Shinobu held up a finger as he arranged a new word on the board. Miyagi tilted his head and read:

_Lets fuck_

_"_You're missing an apos-"

"SCRABBLE DOESN'T HAVE AN APOSTROPHE!" Shinobu shouted. Miyagi grinned. Shinobu then bounced up onto the table, scattering letter tiles onto the floor. "So-" Shinobu's voice returned to a normal level as his eyes glanced at his new 'word'- "how many points do I get for that one?"

"Hopefully," Miyagi growled as he leaned forward, hand slipping up Shinobu's leg. "It'll hit a _triple_ score."


	52. Soldier

Drabble No. 52! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

These are in regard to the true riots in London right now.

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><p><span>'Soldier'<span>

The small hut was ablaze, smoke becoming the dais of their home. Misaki was crouched, coughing in a corner of their one room abode. Some distant, scarlet light flowed through a window along with the ashy vapours, like blood trickling through gravel. It stung and scratched Misaki's throat to no end and with a great heave, he ducked his head between his knees as a terrific boom came from the closed door. Were the vandals back again?

A rectangle of white light formed itself at the corner of the darkness behind Misaki's eyes and, curious, he opened his eyes. Water leaked from his eyes the second he did and a blurry figure appeared at the now open doorway. Misaki rubbed his eyes, gasping before he caught a much clearer impression.

It was a man, in a green, fitted uniform, a Colonel's hat atop his silver head. The hat was swished off as soon as he entered the diminutive building and tucked between his elbow and waist.

"Can you stand up for me, sir?" cried the soldier. "If not, stay there. I'll come to you!" The echoes of blasts rang in Misaki's ears and he trembled in a small quake. Before he knew it, he was off the ground and rocking from side to side. The soldier had picked him up, bridal style.

"What the-" Misaki began. But his tongue collapsed onto the floor of his mouth as he locked onto the soldier's eyes: two amaranthine mazes, ready and waiting to be explored and lost in.

"My name is Usami Akihiko," the solider introduced himself. They were outside now, catastrophic events piling up around them. A bomb whistled past them; people were screaming; smog cloaked the tiny village; explosions could be heard from afar. Usami Akihiko put Misaki on his feet, but Misaki- astounded and allured- pressed himself against the soldier's chest, lifted one foot right off the ground and kissed him on the-

"Misaki!" someone laughed his name. Misaki jerked and his eyes shot open. Akihiko was chuckling on top of him. They weren't in a war zone, which Misaki found perversely mournful; it meant Akihiko wasn't in that soldier's costume... No, they were in Akihiko's room. "You were moaning my name, I thought you may have required something..." Akihiko trailed off, suggestively. Still a little groggy from waking up from a dream, Misaki allowed Akihiko's hand to travel under the covers.

"Woah!" Misaki piped as he caught on and he whacked Akihiko's hands away. "Akihiko!"

"I think you mean _Colonel_ Akihiko," he purred. Misaki blinked furiously and struggled under Akihiko's weight and grip as the man began a bawdy brigade of seduction, fingers and tongues his supreme arsenal.


	53. Spun

Drabble No. 53! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

* * *

><p><span>'Spun'<span>

Hiroki walked into the flat with food on his mind; it was like a giant platter of seasoned squid was settled on his brain, pickled lettuce crumpling over the precipice of the lobes. The sun was tucking itself up for nighttime, snoring its auburn rays across Japan like fluttering crepe paper and- on the sofa in the living room- Kusama Nowaki was right under its balmy warmth. Also snoring, his black-trousered legs were stretched out onto an ottoman and his fingers were intertwined over his stomach. His white shirt rose and fell like a meandering cloud.

With a black top hat resting on his face.

Hiroki squinted his eyes at the man and then grumbled something incoherent as he sauntered into the kitchen. Once he'd made himself a shredded beef and tomato wrap, he joined the slumbering giant, sinking down next to him. Nowaki didn't wake until twenty minutes later, when a particularly raucous laugh erupted from the television. Hiroki barked out one of his own laughs, striking one off his daily ration, at the comedy on-screen. The top hat tumbled onto Nowaki's stomach as he jerked awake.

"Hiroki," he cooed, "you're home."

"Good evening, Nowaki," Hiroki smiled, though his tone was brusk as usual. Nowaki smiled and stretched, then seemed to catch sight of the hat.

"Have you seen my new purchase?" he asked, beaming as he sat up properly. He held the hat out for Hiroki to see. Hiroki sighed and stood up to switch on the light as the sun had now disappeared under its nightly navy duvet. He put his hands on his hips as he stared down at Nowaki.

"And what do you need with a top hat?"

"It was on a whim, I must admit," Nowaki muttered as he spun the hat on his index finger and admired it. He seemed wonderfully and contently oblivious to the fact that the purchase was both unnecessary and ever-so-slightly... not normal, in Hiroki's opinion.

"And what are you going to use it for?" Nowaki sighed and tilted his head to the side, lightly exasperated at Hiroki's lack of fun.

"To eat my cereal out of! What do you think I'm going to use it for," he chuckled.

"You're telling me you're going to walk the streets of Japan wearing that thing?"

"No, I'm telling you I'm going to walk the streets of Japan wearing this _hat_, _with you_."

Hiroki snorted and sat back down, not so silently scorning Nowaki. Nowaki grinned and adorned the hat. He raised his eyebrows. Hiroki looked over.

He couldn't help but laugh.

"You clown."

"I'll be whatever I need to be if it makes you laugh."


	54. Sauce

Drabble No. 54! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

Please review- it's so helpful to read what works and what doesn't!

* * *

><p><span>'Sauce'<span>

Miyagi's fingers circled on Shinobu's back, the covers shoved down even though the window was open, allowing a chill breeze to glide in. The chalky moon powdered lucid white dust into the room, navy sky the night's blanket.

"That was a particuarly fine round," Miyagi commented, laughter still warm in his throat. He tucked an arm behind his head as Shinobu latched himself onto his side.

"Mm," Shinobu agreed. He sighed and rested his head on Miyagi's pec, enjoying the cool air on his still tinglingly hot skin. Both men were completely naked.

After a few languid moments, Shinobu pushed a bottle up from the bottom of the bed with his foot. When he could reach it with his hand, he did so and- ensuring Miyagi's eyes were closed- he clicked open the lid and squeezed the contents onto Miyagi's chest with in the shape of a large, stretched heart. Funnily enough, Miyagi didn't seem to notice. Shinobu grinned and leaned down slowly, tongue edging out-

He licked the toffee-sauce heart from the pointy end upwards; from Miyagi's stomach to around his nipples. Miyagi started and groaned, chuckling weakly.

"Shinobu," he feigned annoyance but when Shinobu nipped his pert nipple he exhaled, smiling. Shinobu squeezed a great deal of the sauce onto Miyagi's nipple, Miyagi watching with a sort of pride welling in his chest; it felt like such praise to have Shinobu do this to him. As Miyagi's chest swelled, Shinobu bit his lip- he loved to see Miyagi all puffed up; so manly. Then Shinobu began to suckle, straining Miyagi's willpower to the limit. His back arched up and his arm clamped around Shinobu's lower back. He groaned louder, eyes scrunched shut as a smile danced on his lips.

Shinobu just sucked harder and harder...


	55. Photograph

Drabble No. 55! Please read and review ^.^!

Thank you all kindly for your suggestions of words! I have them all penned down, with ideas written next to them already! Great inspiration; again, Thank You!

Please review- it's so helpful to read what works and what doesn't!

* * *

><p><span>'Photograph'<span>

Misaki's eye twitched as he ogled the photograph in his shaking hand. A tall man in a black leather biking jacket- ribbed sleeves and everything, with nothing underneath- glared out at him. One of his ghostly pale hands was tucked into his ripped bullet-grey jeans and his high cheekbones were shadowed as he delivered a particularly threatening pout, some bright white light in the club making his skin glow. His dark silver hair was thick and spiked up in all directions.

His purple eyes were outlined in slightly sparkling black eyeliner.

Two shorter men, similarly dressed but not half as intimidating or intense, flanked him as the silhouettes of at least a hundred people danced behind them under fluorescent lights.

"I-Is this... you?" Misaki asked as he sat on the floor. Several photos were scattered around him, a green photo album resting in his lap. He heard Akihiko roll over on his wheely chair and in a heartbeat, Akihiko was leaning over Misaki's shoulder, both his elbows resting on one of Misaki's shoulders.

"Mm..."

"Yes?"

"Yes," Akihiko replied, quite blase. "That was a short phase."

"How old were you here?" Misaki asked, incredulous.

"Err, let's see... seventeen, I think." Misaki swallowed.

"So... so I was..." A furious blush tinged his cheeks.

"Eight," Akihiko answered for him. Heat prickled Misaki's neck and back. Akihiko's silky breath glided around Misaki's ear. Misaki shivered.

"Eight..." he repeated, trying to shake the perverse arousal coursing through him.

"Do you like this photograph?" Akihiko murmured. Misaki cleared his throat and slipped it, stoically, into the album.

"It's interesting."

"Interesting...?"

"Ye- hey!" Akihiko bit Misaki's ear.


	56. Revised

OKAY! A drabble, would you believe. Finally. The general melee of life momentarily yanked me away from FanFiction and though I don't know whether I will consistently update this drabbles as before, here's one for today. Please review!

Little reminder: These drabbles shall never be in chronological order, it is not a story, just a collection of memories.

DEDICATION: Dedicated to Cerberus Revised, a truly thoughtful, inspiring and enthusiastic member of FanFiction, whose work is both enjoyable and a homage to erotica, emotion and poetic prose combined. Read!

* * *

><p><span>'Revised'<span>

Misaki's vision was blurry as he blinked his eyes open. He felt, immediately, a deep sense of satisfaction; contentment; security.

He rolled his shoulders back, as he did so every time he awoke and felt something more solid than a mattress beneath him. Slowly- calmly- he rolled his head to the side, numb cheek tingling back to life, so he could peek up at the snoring scribe; his sighing scripter; the whispering wordsmith-

Usagi.

Misaki inhaled-

Held it in-

Then exhaled, stretching his arms downward. His head was rested on Akihiko's bare, toned stomach, Akihiko's silk white shirt unbuttoned. Akihiko's legs were secured on either side of Misaki's body and aside from Akihiko's minor immodesty, they were both clothed.

For a few moments, Misaki tapped his fingers dazedly over Akihiko's knuckles, situated on Misaki's chest. Akihiko's other arm was limply stretched under the pillow beside him.

It had been a good nap.

Misaki swallowed a few times and couldn't stop himself from grinning, serenely. He felt like he had gulped down that sleep rather than slept it. It was warm inside of him and energising, though he didn't want to move just yet. There was still revision to do for his end-of-term paper and an essay he had been joyously distracted from in the early hours of that morning (he shivered a little at the thought of Akihiko's cool fingertips and their wanderings).

Yes, he'd revised- over and over- the science and song of his lover's body. Yes, he'd matured from the bildungsroman of his youth- gone was the stubborn shyness and infuriating obstinance.

But had he revised for his weekly English test? No. No, he hadn't.

Did this depress, worry or frustrate him?

"Misaki...?" Akihiko yawned softly behind him. Misaki linked his fingers with Akihiko's, silky in the sunlight.

No, it did not.

* * *

><p>Please review : )<p> 


	57. It

Drabble No. 57! Please read and review ^.^

News: I have now created a Beta profile and am more than happy to receive ANY piece of writing, as long as the alpha author is dedicated. It would be a massive service to me to receive work as I am working to hone my skills for a career in editing ^.^

Thank you for your subscriptions and reviews- so warming to feel so encouraged. Please always tell me if you think something has gone too far/isn't developed enough/hasn't been done well etc.

* * *

><p><span>'It'<span>

"Uh, Mi..._yagi_!" Shinobu's voice was strained as he groaned slowly, Miyagi's steady, deep motions undoing every muscle in his body, the man's kisses knotting them back up again with tense tingles.

"Shinobu..." Miyagi breathed, whisper silky on Shinobu's arched neck. Shinobu's hands, shivering slightly, slid up Miyagi's arms, resting on his biceps as his eyes scrunched in the darkness, rainbow colours undulating behind his eyelids.

"Miyagi! Miyagi!" Shinobu groaned more, constricting around Miyagi as his voice pitched higher and higher. His knees raised higher too, pushing on Miyagi's strong hips. "Miyagi, Miya-"

"Shinobu," Miyagi responded... then froze. "Shinobu?" Shinobu has turned rigid beneath him. Skimming the tip of his nose around Shinobu's ear, Miyagi stared at Shinobu. "Shinobu, what's... what's wrong?" Shinobu's grey eyes were wide with fright.

"W-What's... what's that?" Shinobu rasped.

"What's what?" Miyagi asked, beginning to feel awkward inside him. No more words passed between the two of him, only brief, stuttered sounds as Shinobu glanced- embarrassed- down at their hips. Completely uncomfortable now and heavily annoyed, Miyagi pulled out slowly so as not to hurt Shinobu and kneeled up. "What are you talking about?" he barked, trying his hardest not to sound too harsh. He watched Shinobu's hands fist up, watched him swallow, blink a few times and then kneel up in front of him.

Gingerly, he reached out and touched Miyagi. Confused as to what exactly was going on, Miyagi didn't move, not knowing where Shinobu was going. Then, Shinobu took Miyagi's hand and placed it on the same, sensitive spot. Eyes locked on Shinobu's, darting from left to right as he self-consciously touched himself, Miyagi felt the spot.

Then felt the lump.

He flinched and looked down, fidgeting a little to gain a better view. There it was. A lump where it definitely shouldn't be.

He didn't know whether to feel panicked to or act pragmatically so as not to worry Shinobu. He let go of himself and suddenly felt a wash of shame and he hated himself for it.

Assertively, he got off the bed, found his boxers and began to put them on, without looking at Shinobu, who was still kneeling on the bed, paling.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't want-" Miyagi didn't know what to say. He sighed and rubbed the left side of his neck with his right hand before walking to the door.

"Miyagi! What are you-"

"I don't want you to get it!" Miyagi suddenly yelled. Shinobu's body jerked back before fury fell on his face.

"It's not contagious, Yōh!" Shinobu burst.

"We don't know that!" A surge of frustration blistered his chest for a split-second as he thought, briefly, about how quickly assumptions could turn into arguments.

"Oh for-" Shinobu yanked the covers over himself and shot the angriest look he could at his lover. "Aargh! There is no way that has just suddenly appeared, okay? So if it was contagious, I would have it by now."

"It? _It_?"

"Miyagi, calm down! Just... come back to bed. Or, do you want to go to the hospital now?"

"No, I don't want to go to the hospital now," Miyagi growled, both hands behind his head now as he closed his eyes. A pause.

"Miyagi," Shinobu said, "come back to bed, okay? We'll get it checked out in the morning."

"I'm gonna sleep on the sofa." Shinobu didn't stop him as he left the bedroom and skulked to the living room. He lay on the sofa, crossed his arms over his bare chest and closed his eyes. It was painfully quiet in the apartment for a few minutes. Then- "Ah!" Miyagi nearly leapt off the sofa as Shinobu's body suddenly fell onto him. "Jesus, you scared me. What the hell are you doing?"

"Sleeping on you."

"Get off-"

"I'm not moving."

"Yes you are."

"Make me."

"Okay." And with that, Miyagi scooped Shinobu up in his arms, marched to the bedroom and dropped him on the bed. Or rather, he tried to but Shinobu gripped onto his shoulders so hard he couldn't move.

"I am not," Shinobu bit out, "sleeping in a different bed from you. Just keep those boxers on in case and get in."

"Or what?" Miyagi seethed, infuriated more with Shinobu's stubbornness than his physical predicament. Shinobu didn't reply. He just glared.

Miyagi couldn't refuse him, though it took a good few moments of full-on glaring to establish that.

Grumbling, Miyagi lunged around to the other side of the bed and got in, instantly turning on his side. Shinobu latched onto his back.

"Look, get off, okay! Stop being such a kid!" Miyagi shouted.

"You're being the effing kid!"

"What if it is contagious! What if we both get whatever the fuck this is?"

"Then we both have it, big diff! We'll be together. That's all that matters."

Miyagi blinked, stunned for a moment. He turned onto his back and Shinobu's nails dug into his arm as he melded himself to his side. Miyagi swallowed and realised how foolishly scared he was getting. But he couldn't admit that to Shinobu.

"You're a kid, of course you'd see things so black and whi-" A pillow whacked him in the face.

"Go to sleep, Yōh. We'll go to the clinic tomorrow, check it out and get a lollipop, okay?"

"Why a lollipop?" Miyagi couldn't help but ask, grateful for the distraction. Shinobu's head nestled under Miyagi's arm.

"Well, I'll need something to satisfy my oral fixation while you get probed."

"Stop making it so dirty."

"It's making you smile, so that's all that matters." Miyagi clenched his jaw as he realised he was, in fact, grinning from the banter. "Just shut up and sleep." Silence...

Then, Shinobu pecked Miyagi's cheek and shoulder roughly before sighing. Miyagi sighed too. His arm lightly curled around Shinobu's body as he blinked up at the ceiling and realised how goddamn lucky he was.

Even if he was lumpy.


	58. Perving

Drabble No. 58! Please read and review ^.^

News: I have now created a Beta profile and am more than happy to receive ANY piece of writing, as long as the alpha author is dedicated. It would be a massive service to me to receive work as I am working to hone my skills for a career in editing ^.^

Thank you for your subscriptions and reviews- so warming to feel so encouraged. Please always tell me if you think something has gone too far/isn't developed enough/hasn't been done well etc.

* * *

><p><span>'Perving'<span>

Misaki was skimming through a photo album in the computer room, which was in between Akihiko's bedroom and the room Misaki was supposed to sleep in, but never did. In lieu of the more commonplace use of being slept in, the room was now devoted to an array of stuffed toys other than bears. Even Misaki had taken to collecting animals for their fluffy zoo.

Having found himself suddenly more curious about the many looks of his lover, Misaki had begun to peruse the albums Usami-chichi had sent round six months before. He hadn't thought it possible to realise more just how handsome Akihiko was, just how 'to-die-for' he had been and still was. Even more so now than before, he was always on guard for any vengeful fangirl whenever he left the apartment.

He'd found himself instinctively gasping over a few photos. Most of them had Akihiko with other people and generally he wasn't even looking at the lens. He was either leaning back of glancing away or gritting his jaw into a smile Misaki could tell was fake. Either way it made his libido squeal and wag its tail.

His tall, strong form... the atmosphere he created, his presence and enigmatic charisma...

Misaki had to swallow his saliva on more than one occassion.

He was sitting on the floor, thinking about what he was going to have for lunch when a particular photograph caught his eye.

It was Akihiko- he knew that much. But so young. So innocent.

And he was crying.

Misaki estimated that Akihiko must have been around five or maybe even seven. His hair was much shorter, his face rounder but those eyes were just the same, except for the sheen of tears that Misaki had simply never seen before. In the picture, Akihiko was standing in front of a tree, with a beautiful woman in a cocktail dress holding onto his shoulder and laughing at the camera- sunlight twinkling in her champagne glass- and on the other side of Akihiko was a man Misaki recognised to be the Usami family butler.

Misaki's chest hurt. He wanted to know who the woman was, firstly (he knew it wasn't Akihiko's mother, having been told that she had had silver hair like him and this woman had red hair) and secondly, he wanted to know why he felt jealous- though at who he didn't quite know- for not seeing Akihiko cry before like this before. There was a tremble to his lower lip and his hands were clasped together in front of his mini-tuxedo. Something burst inside Misaki. He almost couldn't look. His throat constricted.

_What kind of warped monster am I?_ Misaki asked himself, angrily. _I never want to see Akihiko cry! Who would!_ He groaned inwardly as a list of people instantly scrolled down in his mind. _But I wouldn't want to see him cry... not again- not after that night in the snow-_

_"_Misaki! Misaki?"

_I never want to feel those icy tears again-_

_"_Misaki! Where are you?"

_Never. Never, never, never-_

Misaki turned the page, determined to get the image out of his mind. His arms turned cold as he came to a photograph- black and white- of a topless, teenage Akihiko in no more than swimming trunks, hunched over his knees on the beach with the vast sea in view. He was lithe, certainly, but not half as broad as he was now and it turned Misaki on just thinking about what the man had become... his man...

_"_Ahh, here you are." Misaki leapt off the ground, surprised by Akihiko's arrival.

"When the hell did you get in?" Misaki shouted, hugging the album to his chest. Akihiko blinked and let go of the door handle. He was in a short-sleeved white shirt and his long, beige coat was folded over his arm.

"I've been calling you from downstairs. What were you doing?" Misaki blushed, his eyes darting around for a place to hide the album- he didn't want to relive the embarrassment of a few weeks ago, when he'd seen a rocker photo of Akihiko.

"Nothing! What were you doing?" Misaki piped, panicking.

"Getting coffee," Akihiko replied, his tone slightly worried as he spied the green album. "Like you asked me to. What's that?"

"Homework."

"No it's not-"

"Yes! It is! Go make yourself some damned coff-" As if to smite him, the silver sun suddenly crowned its head from behind an opal cloud. Its rays beamed around the back of Akihiko, highlighting his pale skin, sword-silver hair and somehow making his broad chest and shoulders both more obvious and attractive. Misaki looked back at the photograph of round-faced, knobby-kneed, crying Akihiko and then back at the grown, toned, hunky Akihiko. He had a sudden urge to rip Akihiko's shirt off and study throughly his smooth, muscled arms.

_GAH! What's happening to me?_

Steam billowed from his ears and an imaginary cymbal seemed to clash around him.

"HOW DO YOU DO THAT?" Misaki yelled. Akihiko was beginning to look frightened.

"Do what?"

_Be cute in two entirely different ways and make my heart thump so goddamn fast both times!_

_"_B-Buy the wrong coffee, every time," Misaki spluttered, storming past Akihiko and hurrying downstairs. Akihiko caught his arm halfway down and turned him around.

"Those are photographs, aren't they?"

"No," Misaki barked.

"Yes, they are... you were... Hah!"

"What?"

"_You_ were perving over photographs of _me_!"

"No I... don't be... gah!"

Akihiko let go of his arm and laughed as Misaki crumbled down to the living room and began to busy himself around the kitchen, photo album still under his arm.

"Ahh, Misaki- I'm flattered."

"Shut up."

"No, really, I am," Akihiko purred, strolling to the kitchen.

"Stay away from me," Misaki grumbled. Akihiko cleared his throat, stood back and surveyed his partner as he angrily scrubbed the dishes. The album had been ridiculously half-shoved into a kitchen drawer.

"Misaki..." Akihiko cooed.

"No."

Silence...

"Fine," Akihiko said, his tone unusually perky. Misaki's eyebrows joined, but he didn't look up from the omelette-scarred frying pan. He heard Akihiko walk round to the living room and sit down on the pink sofa that faced the kitchen. He heard a ruffle of paper as Akihiko opened a magazine and the familiar, small creak of furniture as Akihiko bent over to read it on the table. Misaki peeked up.

Akihiko had taken his shirt off.

And was just sitting there, the next step in the alpha evolution sequence of Usami Akihiko.

Misaki melted down behind the counter and shook his head into his knees. He nearly whimpered.

"Good article in here," Akihiko muttered, matter-of-factly. Misaki gave a bovine glare at the oven, stood up and walked purposefully through the living room and up the stairs.

"I'm going to the bedroom," he said. He knew that was all he needed to say. He knew what he needed was a good fuck, knew that Akihiko was pedalling for one too. He knew it would be less painful to simply let it happen. God knew he would jump Akihiko at some point.

Still on the sofa, Akihiko scratched above his lip, closed the magazine calmly and then pursued his lover, a grin in his eyes.


	59. Zing

Drabble No. 59! Please read and review ^.^

News: I have now created a Beta profile and am more than happy to receive ANY piece of writing, as long as the alpha author is dedicated. It would be a massive service to me to receive work as I am working to hone my skills for a career in editing ^.^

Thank you for your subscriptions and reviews- so warming to feel so encouraged. Please always tell me if you think something has gone too far/isn't developed enough/hasn't been done well etc.

Anyhoo, here's a snippet of the Egoist life ^.^

* * *

><p><span>'Zing<span>'

Hiroki's head _ached_. The glare of the laptop wasn't helping.

In the dark, all Hiroki could see was the blinding white of an empty document on the screen and his fingers were hovering patiently over the keys, just as blind.

He _was_ going to write this book. He had to. He'd left it too long, now. If he didn't start now, he never would.

He just needed a word, one word, _the_ word.

Nothing.

He contemplated using that word but realised the melancholy and apathy that came with it wasn't exactly encouraging to any reader.

"I'm home," Nowaki called, tiredly from the doorway. Hiroki didn't move, just grunted. He hated himself for it immediately but couldn't face Nowaki's smile now. How was it Nowaki was always smiling? "Ahh, Hiro-san, you should have a light on! It's bad for your eyes to be sinking in darkness like this." Nowaki flicked the yellow light on and Hiroki squinted for a second, headache amplified.

"Sunken..." Hiroki corrected, under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. How was your day?" Hiroki asked, robotically.

"Long. Happy to be home!" With that, Nowaki fell down on the sofa next to Hiroki. "How was your day?"

Hiroki took a deep breath and, as if there were hands inside of him, rolled together all the bitter morsels inside him.

"Oh, you know, the usual. I cleaned the house, cooked food- your dinner is in the oven- made calls for Mum about Dad, spoke to Mum about Dad, re-arranged the books you left strewn all over the place, did the washing up you left this morning, took half an hour to scrub off whatever sauce it was you left on the hob, had a shower and slipped and hit my head-" At this, Nowaki leaned over and pecked the top of Hiroki's head.

"There now-"

"Get off!" Hiroki yelled, sliding the laptop off his lap and onto the table and shooting up from the sofa.

"Hiro-san-"

"No! You come in here all smiles and... and..."

"I'm sorry I left the washing up, Hiro-san, but there was an appointment I had to get to. You should have left it and I'd have done it n-" Nowaki reeled off, serenely.

"No, you wouldn't have! You'd have sat down next to me, just as you are now and fallen asleep on my shoulder, expecting affection and hugs and yada, yada, yada," Hiroki spat. They both blinked at that. Hiroki swallowed. He felt embarrassed for spiking his words sharper than he'd meant to. Nowaki's eyes were just beginning to narrow. He was still patient though, but his mouth was ever-so-slightly thinner.

"How is your father?"

"Sick! How do you think he is! God, are you a doctor or aren't you? You've seen him, well, not as often as all the other strangers you tend to day in and day out, but what do you expect me to say? Oh, Nowaki, he's as fit as a bunny-"

"Fiddle."

"Bunny, fiddle, who gives a..." Hiroki took a deep breath, but the frustration simply wouldn't pass. "Oh, just have your supper, would you and leave me in peace."

Nowaki blinked and inhaled deeply, not quite glaring at Hiroki. He cracked the knuckles in one hand, bit his inner lip and then stood up.

"Anything I can get you from the kitchen?" he asked, pleasantly.

"Yeah, a zip," Hiroki replied, plonking himself back down on the sofa. He leaned forward and resumed his staring contest with the computer.

"Why a zip-"

"So I-"

"Can zip my mouth shut. Yeah, I got it." Silence. "Oh, this looks great, Hiro-san! Thank you."

"No worries," Hiroki bit out sardonically.

Without turning the light on for the dining room- barely a metre away from Hiroki and in plain sight- Nowaki sat down at the dining table and began to fork the udon into his mouth, muttering all the while.

"Yes, Hiro-san, it was the little boy I was telling you about. Did I manage to get that paper in? No, but Yuki gave me another week. Could you help me with it? That would be lovely, but don't do it if you're too busy with your epic novel-"

"What are you twittering on about?"

"Oh, nothing, Hiro-san, please don't let me interrupt you," Nowaki replied, sweetly.

"Then shut up," Hiroki riposted. Nowaki froze, fork midway to his open mouth. He remained that way for a couple more seconds...

And then broke.

"Okay," he cried, pushing his plate away from him and standing up. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem?" Hiroki asked, affronted.

"Yes! Your. _Problem_. Very simple question, Hiroki." Hiroki couldn't help but blink and jerk his head back at Nowaki's use of his name. But he gathered himself quickly and responded.

"You don't understand a single thing-"

"About what you're going through? About how ill your father is? Tell me, Hiro-san, how would it be if I did spend more time with your father, helping him? Do you think we'd stay stable, what with you taking leave from work? I _work_ at the hospital so you can help your father! The money I earn is to support you at this time! It's always to support you!"

"Just me?"

"Why el-"

"Oh, so the karaoke you have time for with colleagues and the late nights are all to support me, are they?"

"I had to socialise with a potential client."

"How about socialising with me, hey? How about with the father-in-law you were so desperate to bond with?"

"I don't have time to!"

"And yet-"

"I've already told you why!"

Hiroki pushed himself off the sofa and stood facing Nowaki.

"Surprisingly, Nowaki, it's not just about my father, though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, oh! It wouldn't hurt you to put in some effort on the domestic front!"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt you to do the same. Domestic duties aren't just in the kitchen, you know." With this, Nowaki's shoulders broadened and he exuded his pent up, unattended libido. Hiroki could practically sniff it and he tried to ignore the zing it elicited inside him.

"You bastard, you know that's not fair, I've been exhausted!"

"And you think I'm not just as exhausted as you are? Sure, it's different kinds of fatigue, but it's still there. But _I'm_ trying not to let it get in the way of our intimacy."

"It's only been three..." Hiroki's voice faltered as he realised how long it had been since they'd made love. "Three weeks."

"And I wouldn't mind, only you obviously have energy enough for that book of yours."

"_That_ book?"

"Hiro-san, I know it's going to be spectacular. I _know_ it's going to be amazing." There was a slight tone of desperation in Nowaki's voice. "But..."

"But what?" Hiroki prompted, poisonously. He hated how vain and spoilt he sounded for passing over the compliments Nowaki had just given him.

"I want some of that spectacular, too..." Nowaki looked down at the ground and his shoulders dropped. "I want some of that amazing... just a hug in bed is enough... it's a prize at the end of the day, you know? I know how selfish I sound... but... I'm working every day, taking on as many little jobs as well as at the Paediatric centre, so you can be comfortable during this difficult time. I don't want you worrying about money with everything else."

Hiroki's heart felt like a rose petal on warm waters; floating, protected. He glared at Nowaki's shoe and then looked away. He clenched his hands into fists.

"I need a word..."

"What?" Nowaki asked, looking up.

"A word. I haven't even started that book. I was goddamn grateful for the mess you made so I wouldn't be staring at that damned screen. Plus, Mum wears me out..." Hiroki's breath shot out of him like lava from a geyser. "Damn, I haven't even asked about that operation you did."

"Everything went to plan."

Hiroki looked over at Nowaki, into his eyes. He didn't like the distance between them; he couldn't see the thin strokes of ink-blue around Nowaki's pupils. He clenched and unclenched his hands many times before he took rigid steps towards Nowaki. Hiroki's head only just reached Nowaki's broad chest.

"Why do you have to be so goddamned tall..." Hiroki grumbled, eyes fixed on Nowaki's black sweater. His fingers were almost touching Nowaki's red trousers. Nowaki blinked down into Hiroki's hair and answered simply, sleepily.

"Because you get cold and need something larger to get warm." The backs of their hands touched for a second and then parted. Then Nowaki's finger came back to tug a little on the sleeve of the white jumper Hiroki was wearing. Nowaki's jumper.

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't-" Hiroki began.

"Mean anything you just said. I know that. I know you're scared about your dad and frustrated because I don't pull my weight around-"

"I couldn't give a damn about what you do here. Your responsibilities are at the hospital. You do so many important, essential things every day. I'm so grateful for what you're doing and... God, I admire you so much for your zeal. You inspire me. You're my... my word. Don't bother yourself with chores, I'm here, it's my job. I was... I was just venting spleen. I'm sorry."

"Hiro-san-" Nowaki began, more than a little shocked at the length at which Hiroki had expressed his sensitivity.

"No."

"Hiro-san, your my first responsibility, always!" Nowaki's arms shot out and embraced Hiroki firmly. Hiroki tensed but then relaxed as Nowaki's smell filled him up. His eyes closed slowly as his arms drooped around Nowaki's waist. He felt Nowaki's cold nose in his hair and shivered.

"Then shag me silly, you giant freak of nature."

"Giant, am I?" Nowaki murmured into Hiroki's ear, voice low and deadly as his fingers stroked up and down his spine.

"Yeah, huge." Hiroki was beginning to feel very _hungry_.

Nowaki chuckled and Hiroki nipped Nowaki's arm.

"Kid."

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><p>Please review ^.^<p> 


	60. Gotcha

Drabble No. 60! Please read and review ^.^

News: I have now created a Beta profile and am more than happy to receive ANY piece of writing, as long as the alpha author is dedicated. It would be a massive service to me to receive work as I am working to hone my skills for a career in editing ^.^

Thank you for your subscriptions and reviews- so warming to feel so encouraged. Please always tell me if you think something has gone too far/isn't developed enough/hasn't been done well etc.

INTEREST: I wonder whether anyone can review and say how they think Misaki 'sets' Akihiko 'up'? Do you see what he does? Of course, this is only how I've interpreted Misaki would years into their relationship... curious what you think ^.^

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><p><span>'Gotcha<span>'

_"Should sixteen year olds be allowed to vote in the United Kingdom... ugh, I don't know!" Misaki fell back onto the sofa, worn out and tired. Akihiko leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip of his coffee, face blank._

_"Trouble?"_

_"I shouldn't have signed up for this debate club... I've given myself more work! I don't have time!"_

_"When do you have to be prepared for?"_

_"Tomorrow."_

_"Ah..."_

_"I'll just... not."_

_"You're going to give up?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because I'm exhausted!" Misaki yelled, shooting up from the sofa and then withering again._

_"That's not the college's fault, though, or yours. It's mine."_

_"I know that," Misaki said through gritted teeth behind his cupped hands. He could still smell the sweat on his palms from his exertions and trials that morning and tried to ignore the grinding pulse in his stomach and hips, still._

_"Well, why don't we work this out systematically?"_

_"What?" Misaki's hands dropped- Akihiko's pragmatic tone was disconcerting. Akihiko folded his arms, face honest. Danger, danger, cried an alarm in Misaki's head._

_"What else are sixteen year olds allowed to do?"_

_"Marry. Get a job. Join the armed forces. Leave school. Change their name."_

_"That's it?"_

_"Well, explicitly, no."_

_"Be explicit."_

_"They can have... sex."_

_"I see." A pause. Misaki blinked. Akihiko swallowed. Suddenly, hands in the hair, he cried jubilantly: "I have a solution!"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Skip theory. Practice!" With that, he lunged, swooped down and scooped Misaki into his arms._

_"Wha- no! NO, no, no, I don't have time!" How the HELL did I fall for that one? his thoughts raged. You wanted it, that's why, came a smarmy voice._

_"Ahh, Misaki," Akihiko purred against Misaki's neck as he paced towards the stairs. "You wouldn't want a participation crisis, would you?"_

_"A what?"_

_"Participa-" he breathed, whisper shivering down Misaki's neck as they scaled the stairs. "Shun," Akihiko ended the word, nudging up Misaki's chin with his nose and they gained towards the bedroom. Akihiko dropped Misaki and his nose found-_

"Totally unlikely," came Misaki's voice by Akihiko's ear. He started and looked up to see Misaki reading the screen over his shoulder.

"Why is... why is it unlikely?" Akihiko asked, still stunned that Misaki had managed to sneak up on him and had read his more erotic work.

"I would never set you up like that."

Akihiko cleared his throat and slid off his glasses. He swivelled his chair and looked up at Misaki, parting his knees ever so slightly as he rested his elbows on the arm-rests.

"Oh? How would you set me up?" he grinned. He was teasing Misaki; he didn't really believe that Misaki ever planned to seduce him or ever planned a sexual event. But his grin disappeared when a quick, almost non-existent smirk passed across Misaki's face. Who was teasing who?

Misaki cleared his throat, blushed a little and donned a very affronted look.

"I would never set you up," he declared and he walked from the room. "I just wanted to tell you that lunch is ready."

"Is it now?"

"Stop talking like that!" Misaki spoke from the doorway.

"Like what?"

"Like we're in that... _unrealistic_ novel of yours."

"Unrealistic?"

"Yes, unrealistic."

"Oh, Misaki, I assure you these inked instances can be _very_ real." Akihiko rose from his chair and prowled towards Misaki whose eyes widened in one second but then creased the next as he buckled over, laughing.

"Gotcha!"

Akihiko's hand was frozen in mid-air.

"So easy! All I have to do is... no, I won't tell you." With that, still giggling a little, Misaki practically skipped downstairs, leaving Akihiko more than a little baffled.

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><p>So, how did Misaki do it? You tell me ^.^ Review, please, if you have the time : )<p> 


	61. Spell

Drabble No. 61! Please read and review ^.^

News: I have now created a Beta profile and am more than happy to receive ANY piece of writing, as long as the alpha author is dedicated. It would be a massive service to me to receive work as I am working to hone my skills for a career in editing ^.^

Thank you for your subscriptions and reviews- so warming to feel so encouraged. Please always tell me if you think something has gone too far/isn't developed enough/hasn't been done well etc.

TRIVIA: Many good guesses came my way in regards to how misaki sets Akihiko up. All brilliant! However- and this is only how I perceive Misaki will eventually seduce Akihiko- I believe it is almost entirely in how Misaki lays the bait, so to speak. He knows how eager Akihiko always is to leap on language, thus he says something he knows Akihiko can flip round or reject. Also, denying sexuality spurs Akihiko on too... =D I think. But I'm probably wrong =P

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><p><span>'Spell<span>'

_"_Akihiko...?"

"Hmm." The man did not sound amused.

"Are you asleep?"

"I was getting there," Akihiko replied, turning onto his side in the dark room. There was a faint blue light in the room and Misaki could just about make out the slide of Akihiko's nose, the curve of his sculpted shoulder; the gleam of his silver hair- recently greying slightly- and the swerve of his chest. It was so quiet in the apartment that Misaki felt nervous to break the rare silence. He swallowed and pulled the covers over his naked body, nestling his head into the pillow before he spoke.

"Do you believe in... destiny?"

"Destiny..."

"Yeah... I mean, hah, don't think I'm being mushy, it's just a question I had in my head and if you're too tired, don't feel like you have to reply, I know you've been really busy recently, well, more busy than usual, so if you need to sleep, do! It's just been going round and round in my head and I was wondering whether you had any theories on it, because you generally have theories on everything, not in an arrogant way, in an interesting way, not that I-" Akihiko put a couple of fingers on Misaki's lips and Misaki thought he saw the subtle spike of a smirk on Akihiko's pale face.

"Calm down." Misaki's lips popped open under Akihiko's fingers and he took a breath. "Calm?" Misaki nodded.

"Sor-"

"Nothing to apologise for." A pause. Then, "Okay. Destiny." Akihiko took a deep breath, brought both his hands together and cracked his knuckles a little, staring up at the ceiling and the glow-in-the-dark stars. "I assume you mean 'destiny' as in the opposite of plain coincidence?"

"Yes," Misaki replied, rather enthusiastically.

"Then... yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Well, for a long time I didn't. I thought that a lot of things happened for a reason that anyone and everyone could understand. But... well, then you happened."

"You think I'm, well, we're destiny?"

"Destined," Akihiko corrected.

"Destined... destined?"

"Well, it would make sense, seeing as you're so _tiny_ and all." Akihiko laughed a little too heartily at his own joke for Misaki's liking, so he swatted him on the chest.

"Right, funny. Ha. Ha. But my name's not 'des'."

"So?"

"So-" Misaki paused, assessing in his own mind whether it was worth taking Akihiko's small joy away. It wasn't. "Never mind."

There was a warm silence for a couple of moments, in which Misaki turned on his side, back facing Akihiko. Then Akihiko shuffled up behind him. Misaki shivered and closed his eyes.

Akihiko's fingers slid over Misaki's shoulder and down the side of his ribcage and rested on his hip as he placed cool kisses down the half-moon sweep of his neck. One hand still settled on Misaki's hip, the other travelled round and delicately stroked the left side of his chest. Misaki's hands were beginning to feel clammy, his stomach tightening as he became more aware of the lithe, muscled form behind him. Still, after seven years, he tingled and fizzed, no matter how often Akihiko shook him up. The hand on his chest slowly silked its way down to Misaki's tummy and Akihiko's thumb began to gently rub a uniquely sensitive spot just by his tummy button.

"How could it not be destiny," Akihiko whispered, "when it feels like this? When it feels like a whole new season every time we touch, new temperatures, new lights, new hungers that only we know... that become tradition, custom... our culture. Only we, together, could fashion so holistically a spell by touch."

Without taking a split-second to allow his brain to clog up, Misaki's hand shot to Akihiko's and held it fast- he knew what Akihiko was talking about, exactly. Akihiko laughed softly behind Misaki's ear, Akihiko's nose nudging into his hair as both strong arms embraced him-

A new heat, a new cool.


	62. Cherry

Drabble No. 62! Please read and review ^.^

News: I have now created a Beta profile and am more than happy to receive ANY piece of writing, as long as the alpha author is dedicated. It would be a massive service to me to receive work as I am working to hone my skills for a career in editing ^.^

Thank you for your subscriptions and reviews- so warming to feel so encouraged. Please always tell me if you think something has gone too far/isn't developed enough/hasn't been done well etc.

EXPERIMENTAL FICTION- THIS DRABBLE IS TO SEE HOW FEW WORDS ARE NEEDED TO CREATE AN IMAGE AND EFFECT. PLEASE REVIEW SO I CAN SEE THE EFFECT =D THANK YOU.

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><p>'<span>Cherry'<span>

_Miyagi shivered as Shinobu's cherry tongue-_

_His hands gripped the white sheets-_

_His eyes scrunched-_

_A pained, ecstatic growl-_

_Roar-_

_Gasp-_

_Delicious moan, hungry-_

_Hot-_

_Wet-_

_Tensed-_

_Clenched-_

_Gasp-_

_Sigh-_

_Stinging bitten lip-_

_Teeth scar-_

_Hold it in-_

_Muscle flex-_

_Shadow-_

_Gleam-_

_Steam-_

_Beam-_

_Peak-_

_Flicked-_

_Twist-_

_Out..._

_Hips up-_

_Collide-_

_Buckle-_

_Please-_

_Please-_

_Please-_

_Strength employed-_

_Merciless deploy-_

_Crack-_

_-Pulse_

_Pulsing-_

_Flutter-_

_Flourish-_

_Now we're there-_

_Strong man stare-_

_There-_

_There-_

_Wicked glare-_

_Sweet on flare-_

_There, there-_

_Passion blare-_

Together.


	63. Heart

Drabble No. 63! Please read and review ^.^

News: I have now created a Beta profile and am more than happy to receive ANY piece of writing, as long as the alpha author is dedicated. It would be a massive service to me to receive work as I am working to hone my skills for a career in editing ^.^

Thank you for your subscriptions and reviews- so warming to feel so encouraged. Please always tell me if you think something has gone too far/isn't developed enough/hasn't been done well etc.

WOW- Thank you so much for your feedback, it really, REALLY helped to hear how different people perceive language. I fully appreciate and pretty much agree that the flow was awkward, I'm not exceedingly proud of it (Drabble No. 62). However, knowing that it created (for one or two people!) such a steamy scene really helped me to further understand how imagination can take over and create a scene; authors don't have to do all the work! Let the reader be free!

This drabble will be more congruous with the others... hopefully!

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><p>'<span>Heart'<span>

Nowaki sighed and fell back onto the sofa. The light in the living room was making his headache worse, his t-shirt making him feel hotter, but he had no more energy. None.

The shift at the hospital had been grindingly slow and stressful. Waiting for lab results for three children whilst at the same time trying to keep the parents appeased had been difficult to say the least. More than that, though, a child had come in that night and- within hours- had been diagnosed as terminally ill.

A fist clenched around his heart and he closed his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose.

What he needed was Hiro-san. Hiro-san with a dinner already prepared for him and a hug to squeeze away the profusion of tense, draining emotion soaking him from the inside out. But Hiro-san was visiting his parents for his mother's birthday.

"So no hugs for me..." Nowaki muttered, sardonically. He licked his tongue behind his bottom incisor tooth and glared at the opposite sofa arm, where his toes were curling and uncurling.

What made it all the worse was the anomie that had afflicted him since entering the apartment. It felt cold and not in the comforting, Hiro-san way.

He lay on the sofa for a couple of minutes, every few seconds promising himself he would get up and get something to eat or switch off the lights. Eventually, he groaned up- body and voice- and slouched his way to the kitchen. He didn't feel particuarly hungry. In truth, he'd wanted to stay at the ward to help, to do all he could. But two colleagues had convinced him that he was in no state whatsoever to doctor children. So he'd made his way home, dark temper parting the Red Sea of people on the streets.

Expecting to find a few odd bits and bobs to make a wrap, Nowaki opened the fridge and was momentarily stunned. There, on the second shelf, was a food-filled plate covered in cling film, a post-it note on it reading:

_Knew you'd be knackered and didn't want to risk returning home to find you starving on the kitchen floor with flies buzzing around you... eat it. Hiro-san x_

The kiss at the end was fainter than the rest of the text and it made Nowaki smile all the more- it meant Hiro-san had thought about whether or not to put it there and he'd decided to. He laughed quietly to himself, almost feeling the brisk peck on the cheek Hiro-san would doubtless have given him if he were there.

The fist around his heart unclenched, stroked and soothed.

He was loved.


	64. Lips

Drabble No. 64! Hope you enjoy : ) I have been lucky enough to Beta for: katrinadianne & freakylemurcat. I feel so honoured! Please check out their work, they are both so unique, with wicked senses of humour and awesometastic Imaginations!

Please review! I hope you enjoy ^.~

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><p><span>'Lips'<span>

"Come on, Akihiko, it's easy!" Misaki laughed, balancing perfectly on the ice, skates poised just right. In front of him, right at the edge of the rink and at the nearest point possible to the exit, was Akihiko. His navy scarf was tucked around his neck, long brown coat buttoned down to just above his knees and the black skates on his feet wobbling slightly. "Just one step... just one!" Misaki smiled up at Usagi, who looked very much like a rabbit in the headlights. He tried to suppress a giggle at the pun.

"I'll slip and crack my skull open. Or, I'll slip and one of the blades on these infernal skates will cut you on the face."

"Stop panicking. Health and safety precautions have been put in place."

"Why don't you..." Akihiko cleared his throat and tucked his gloved hands into his pockets, eyes twitching nervously to the fifty or so other people zooming and twisting around the large indoor ice rink. "Why don't you skate around for a while and I'll stay here..."

"Because we've paid-"

"It's just money."

Misaki inhaled deeply, held his breath and exhaled, trying to maintain his patience. Normally, he would have barked at Akihiko for being so blase about money, but the man seemed so stressed and stiff, it hardly seemed fair. One look at those wide, worried eyes made him melt inside. It was a ferly to see Lord Usami Akihiko in this state, shivering (and not for the cold).

"Look- there's no way I'm skating off without you," Misaki declared, folding his arms over his blue puffa-jacket. Akihiko bent his head forward, eyes away from Misaki. There was an anxious pause, the burbling laughter of children and hysteric squeals of infants settling in the air like the misty breath forming between Misaki and Akihiko. Misaki opened his mouth to say something more, when he noticed Akihiko gently biting the inside of his lower lip. His snowy skin had gained a pinkish hue at the cheeks.

Akihiko was embarrassed. If Misaki wasn't careful, he'd humiliate Akihiko, unintentionally. Misaki swallowed and thought hard.

"Here."

Akihiko looked up to see both of Misaki's arms reached out towards him. His red-gloved hands were upturned and open. Akihiko gazed into Misaki's holly-green eyes, face blank.

"Take my hands." Akihiko took a breath, deliberated... then shook his head and turned to make his way out. "Oh no you don't! Don't you trust me?" Misaki grinned wickedly to himself as Akihiko froze. Two festively-dressed children zipped past them before Akihiko turned back around.

"I... of course I do."

"Then take my hands, moron!" Akihiko resisted for a moment more and then gave in, placing his larger hands into Misaki's, glancing around warily as if to warn away onlookers. They were unobserved.

"Okay! Good! Now, let me take the lead for a second." Akihiko blinked at their joined palms, then smirked a little up at Misaki, who rolled his eyes and smiled back. "It'll make a nice change won't it." Akihiko smirked some more, eyes flicking from Misaki's to the ice as Misaki pulled him gently forward, skating backwards as Akihiko slid slowly forwards. "There! You're already skating!"

"Not really... you're pulling-"

"You're skating and that's final." Misaki beamed, closing his eyes at the same time. "Right," he continued eyes opening. "I'm gonna move to your side now, okay?" Akihiko inhaled sharply.

"Don't let-"

"I'm not going to let go- just one hand, okay? What side do you want me to be on?"

"This side," Akihiko said, gesturing to his right. His shoulders hitched up in panic as three girls sped around them. Misaki grumbled after them as he steadily slid into place next to Akihiko.

"Just hold onto my hand, okay?" Akihiko squeezed tight. "Okay- look at my feet. 'V' shapes, okay?" Misaki looked at Akihiko and almost glowed with pride and love- Akihiko was facing a fear _for him_ and he looked too damn adorable. "Right foot forward..." Misaki slid his right foot forward and Akihiko imitated him with precision. "Excellent! Now just do the same with the left." Akihiko stumbled that time and teetered backwards, but Misaki steadied him forwards, holding firmly onto his hand and stood still to give Akihiko a break. "Don't give up now."

"Hmm?" Akihiko looked a little shocked but he regained his 'cool' and nodded.

Slowly but surely, Misaki guided Akihiko to the centre of the ice rink. It was a comical and intimate experience for both of them. Akihiko very much reminded Misaki of a new-born giraffe... on skates. Akihiko was in shock, partly because he was in fact ice-skating (sort of) but mostly because Misaki was truly _there _for him; he felt safe, protected...

Loved.

They stood in the centre for a few minutes, admiring a few professional partners loop-da-loop and flip and swirl, synchronised.

"This is a lot more... fun than I thought it would be. Thank you." Akihiko held Misaki's hands up to his chest and kissed his felt-covered fingers. Misaki was momentarily entranced and tingled from the inside out but he blushed and looked away before he fell completely under Akihiko's spell.

"Don't be ridiculous; you just needed a bit of encouraging."

"No," Akihiko pushed, dropping his forehead down onto Misaki's. "Thank you."

Their hands cradled together between their chests, both men gazed into eachother's eyes. Akihiko smiled and kissed Misaki on the nose.

"Oi, no funny business."

"Hah!"

"Come on, I wanna get some hot chocolate."

At home that evening, both Akihiko and Misaki lolled on the sofa. Akihiko's arm was stretched behind Misaki's head, which was half leaning on Akihiko's shoulder.

"I'm exhausted," Misaki groaned.

"Really?"

"Yeah! Why, are you not?"

"I could do something..."

"Something? Like what?"

"Well," Akihiko smiled, stroking his hand through Misaki's silky hair. He nuzzled his nose into it and tipped Misaki's chin up with two fingers. "I suppose I feel a little emasculated."

"Emasculated? How?"

"Well," Akihiko murmured, low and husky, nudging his nose behind Misaki's ear, "not that I didn't love you taking the lead and all-"

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no-" Misaki shot up from the sofa and made for the stairs but Akihiko swiftly stopped him, gathering their hands together once more. "See! We held hands at that ice rink, isn't that enough?"

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do," Akihiko sighed, an ever-so-slight tone of desperation in his voice as he moved forward and began to gently kiss Misaki's neck.

"N-no, Akihiko..." He was tired, so tired that he felt as though he would disappoint Akihiko if they engaged in this. But Akihiko had made a decision...

Akihiko's fingers caressed the tender spots of Misaki's torso and at a loss, all Misaki could do was arch back- seduced. His eyes closed as Akihiko's electric tongue set sparks along his throat.

"I know some... famous poet said that thing... you said..." Misaki managed, Akihiko's hands swaying Misaki's hips towards him as he began to practically eat his shoulder. Hungry, Akihiko slid off his own t-shirt, keeping Misaki present and occupied by walking him into the wall. Hands pressed on Akihiko's bare chest, trying pointlessly to push him away, Misaki bit his lip to suppress a moan; the sheer sensation of Akihiko's abs grazing his body was driving him crazy. He wanted to scrunch Akihiko's thick, silver hair in his hands, felt a primal urge to bite... it was new. It wasn't novel for his body to react this way to Akihiko, but so quickly and with such a craving? Never. He had visions of Akihiko pounding into him, mercilessly slow and strong... It was hard to breathe.

Akihiko's teeth- at his ear, neck and shoulder- sent shivers spiralling up and down Misaki's spine and a rush of blood both north and south. Then, Akihiko's lips: soft and light as air, they began to tease Misaki's, so faint and barely touching... and-

Misaki broke, arms wrapping around Akihiko's neck, voraciously kissing the man with such force that Akihiko stopped all he was doing and let Misaki take the lead completely. It was like he was hurling scarlet paint over the delicate, twisting lines of Akihiko's more artful design.

His tongue was wild and hot, hands fervidly rushing through Akihiko's hair, nails digging into his shoulders. A genuine groan was elicited from Akihiko after Misaki sucked and nipped the corner of his mouth, cold, clammy hands furling and unfurling over Akihiko's pecs and then shooting round Akihiko's neck again. After a few moments of carnal bliss- in which Misaki's hands had sought and fought Akihiko's belt- Misaki stopped for breath.

"Wow," Akihiko chuckled, stroking along Misaki's jaw. Misaki's arms were still locked around Akihiko's neck, frozen on tippie-toe. He swallowed and looked a little worried and began to loosen his grip a little. "Hey, don't stumble on the second step," Akihiko soothed, hands smoothing over Misaki's lower back. Misaki's breathing was ragged and quiet. "Six years, for that?"

"Hey... I've done stuff with you before..."

"Not like that... that was a treasure, sweetly given... I would wait a dozen years for..." He seemed lost for words. Akihiko licked his thumb and then rubbed it gently over Misaki's lower lip. The sight of it- red and glossy and hot- switched on the deadly dial inside him. "Give me my sin again," he quoted and consumed Misaki's gasps with lustful lips.

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><p>Please Review : )<p> 


	65. No

Drabble No. 65! Please read and review ^.^

Thank you for your subscriptions and reviews- so warming to feel so encouraged. Please always tell me if you think something has gone too far/isn't developed enough/hasn't been done well etc.

Let the reader be free!

Reviews for the chapter would be very helpful : ) Please.

'No'

_Oh, when the winds are colder_

_Oh, when the sun is older_

_Oh, when the leaves are falling down._

_Oh, when the lambs are leaping,_

_Oh, when the moon is sleeping,_

_Time can move on without a sound._

Misaki

Time had been frozen. Not a hair moved. No breath.

Akihiko brought it all back to life as he sighed. I did not hear it. I felt it travel up my bare forearm, felt the shiver at my elbow and just under my bicep. His large hand was pressed at the centre of my chest right at the bottom of my naked neck. My heart beat out a 'hello' to his palm.

"I love you," Akihiko breathed, slowly. I did not hear it. The words kissed my parted lips and tingled on my tongue.

I widened my eyes, ears plunged underwater. No sound. Not anymore.

Akihiko

We were sat on that large bed, Misaki and I, the ice-blue blankets nested round our waists and in our laps. I gently cupped Misaki's face in both of my hands and smiled as best I could without letting the tears, that were begging behind my eyes, slice over my lips.

Strong. That's what I had to be.

"I love you," I whispered again, touching foreheads with my love and stroking behind his ears. If it would be that I spoke no other words but that that trusty trio, so be it- it was the only pattern of breath that mattered.

Noise was gone, if from Misaki's life then so from mine. Having contemplated, I knew it would not be a loss from our lives. I would give him peace and passion, I would collate a life, tailor a bespoke (without speaking) microcosm for he and I.

So that my deaf Misaki would thrive as he should.

Misaki

He kissed my throat and I breathed.

We smiled.


	66. Epiphany

Drabble No. 66! Hope you enjoy : ) Please check out: katrinadianne & freakylemurcat, they both have such wonderful imaginations.

Please review! I hope you enjoy ^.~ NOTE: THIS DRABBLE IS NOT RELATED TO DRABBLE NO. 65. EACH DRABBLE IS A FLEETING IDEA AND, UNLESS WRITTEN BY ME, EACH ONE IS INDIVIDUAL. SO- MISAKI IS NOT DEAF.

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><p><span>'Epiphany'<span>

Romantica (_9 years into their relationship)_

Akihiko was lazily stretched out on the sofa, dozing in the unlit room as he contemplated turning on the light. The heavy rain drum-rolled against his windows and he closed his eyes, partly hypnotised. Just as he was about to fall asleep, the doorbell rang.

"Odd..." Sighing, he stretched and went to the phone, wondering whether the package Misaki had been waiting for had finally come. He pressed the video button and was surprised to see Misaki standing there, drenched. "Misaki!" Without another word, he pressed the 'enter' button and opened the front door, watching the elevator for Misaki's arrival, panicked and curious.

The elevator doors pinged open and for a few moments, neither of them moved. Misaki's head was bowed. Then, he looked up and strode towards Akihiko so fast that Akihiko was at a loss for what to do.

"M-" he began, but Misaki silenced him.

With a kiss. Hotly, on the lips, slender hands clutching Akihiko's shirt-front.

Their eyes closed.

Misaki smelled of the rain: earthy and damp. His usual vanilla scent was even more intense than usual and as Misaki's nails dug hard into his chest, moist lips working Akihiko's with such languid lust and wholeness, Akihiko's stance faltered. His hand shot to the doorframe as he groaned- Misaki's tongue had begun a tortuously timid exploration of Akihiko's lower lip. A cloud of desire shivered into his body as a familiar strength began to dominate him. He lifted a hand to Misaki's ice-cold cheek before Misaki pulled back. His face was wrought with passion and urgency.

"Wha-"

"I had an... an epiphany!" Misaki gasped, hands still clutching, eyes wide and locked onto Akihiko's. Akihiko stroked his fingers lightly through Misaki's feathery, wet hair as he breathed out a laugh.

"You did, did you?"

Misaki swallowed and nodded eagerly.

"I was at the restaurant with those guys from the publishing house and they were all talking about the latest thing..." Misaki took a few deep breaths, not loosening his hold. "And the drinks came but... I just didn't fancy it!"

"Fancy what?" Akihiko asked, silkily, trying to catch his breath as he smiled and he stroked his finger round Misaki's cheek and jaw.

"Anything! I was hungry, I was thirsty but..." Misaki hung his head. "I didn't fancy anything but... but you."

Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance but Misaki and Akihiko were calm as anything. They touched foreheads for a while, breathing soothingly before Akihiko pulled back and kissed the top of Misaki's head, reaching down to hold Misaki's hand. He rubbed his thumb gently over Misaki's warming palm.

"Okay now?" he whispered, tightening his hold on Misaki's hand.

"Mm..." Misaki replied, letting his head fall quite comically onto Akihiko's chest. Primal, Akihiko let his chest swell and shoulders broaden. He inhaled and embraced Misaki affectionately. "Have you eaten?"

"No," Akihiko answered, resting his cheek on Misaki's. "You?"

"No..." Misaki pulled back, held Akihiko's hand firmly and strode back to the elevator, pulling Akihiko with him. "Let's eat. I'm buying."


	67. Overnight

Drabble No. 67! TWO MINUTE CHALLENGE- NO EDITING! TWO MINUTES FLAT. 'Overnight' Overnight, Hiroki had realised two things. One, that he was never going to be any taller than Nowaki. No matter his tippie-toes, slightly heeled shoes (his attempts had been weak- after all he didn't want to appear too feminine...) and changes in diet, he was still... Tiny. And number two- he didn't know what he would do if Nowaki was any smaller. He liked Nowaki... Big. 


	68. Real

Drabble No. 68!

5 MINUTE TRIAL (ALSO WHILST EATING)

No editing, so excuse mistakes. Please review ^.^

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><p><span>'Real'<span>

Akihiko's hand slid up the blond man's leg in the milky light, the expression on his face sincere and full of concentration as he pushed him against an invisible wall in a misty room. His mouth skimmed over the man's neck. The features of the other man's face weren't stable, morphing every few seconds- taking the nose of the man Misaki had passed on the street two days ago to the eyes of the woman who had sold him a book at the college, even to the jawline of a distant cousin from his youngest memories.

The scene confused him.

Akihiko's skin was rosier than it usually was and there were none of the characteristic emotion lines, only an opal-smooth surface with intensely blooming purple eyes- and they were blooming, continually, like footage of an iris had been implanted into Akihiko's face. It was beautiful and beguiling. The white shirt Akihiko was wearing had no creases, though the blond man's hair did- it looked like a pile of pencil sharpenings one second and then the next it was as gloopy as caramel.

But Akihiko's hands were the same- every vein, every tendon, every flick of that slender, well-jointed thumb... so real...

Which was why, when he awoke from his nightmare, he promptly slapped Akihiko and yelled-

"YOU BASTARD!"

Akihiko, who had woken up a little earlier to read the newspaper with his coffee was stunned for a few moments.

"You lying, cheating crook. Backstabbing..." Misaki's volcano-voice blurred into the background as Akihiko grinned to himself and thought-

_Why, this is an interesting role-play to play with..._


	69. Competition

RIGHT- A competition is in order, me thinks : )

I am giving all readers until tomorrow at four to come up with a word and BASIC plot that I shall write expressly for them and have as drabble no. 69.

It can be any word.

It can be any characters from the Junjou verse.

It can be any plot.

The best one- in my opinion- shall be chosen and be written first.

There shall also be 2nd and 3rd winners too.

To be honest, this would be you the readers helping me out. I really hope I do your ideas justice!

Let your imaginations run freeeeeee ^.^

~ImagineI


	70. Soul

Drabble No. 70

(This is not a suggestion, I'm working on the suggestions- they're all so good, I can't choose! Thank you so much, all, for your co-operation!)

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><p><span>'Soul'<span>

"So... you loved him because he loved you?"

Akihiko sighed and looked over at the patient in the bed next to his own. His head felt as fluffy as one of Misaki's omelettes. The other patient- a man with a broken arm and leg- stared at him, patiently. For a moment, Akihiko almost forgot the thumping pulse of blood in his bandaged head. The sunlight seemed to stream through the window effortlessly that day.

"That was the impetus of it... yes."

"Is that love, though?"

"The seed was planted. I loved him the second he showed signs of loving me because... well, because it was new. Novel. But the bastard of it is-" (here, the other man actually flinched at Akihiko's expletive)- "That then you begin to... _fall_ in love. In love with the way they can't tie a tie, in love with the way they despise pomposity but will only drink the most expensive spring water... in love with the sound of the sway of their hips, the discrete double-chin that appears when they've fallen asleep to the point of comatose on your shoulder. _Your_ shoulder. The creature that tells you that they wouldn't sleep that deeply with any other being, any other soul. That's when your mind and body really turn into a punchbag. When they draw back the curtains to your soul and you... you can't imagine another way of dancing. Another way of winding around your home. When peaceful silence is the sound of their breathing and uninhibited footsteps. I suppose I could put my love down to the way no one else makes rice with that perfect... puff. That lightness inimitably contrasted with the sweet and spice... the way the vapours from the food seem to emulate whatever they're feeling. And you can tell- oh yeah, you can tell. When they're angry, sick, happy, dazed, bored. Horny. So words become... inessential. Yes. The author with no use for words. But when they speak, what rhythm: a remedy to the hiccup of your heart, the melody, the private symphony that glides out, goldenly, just for you. The language of the eyes is learnt, though. Blinks... the way they rub their eyes when they're sleepy, the way one nostril flares when they're truly pissed off... and it looks like- and excuse me for the simile, I really can't think of any other way to describe it- a snail is halfway up their nose and they are determined to be unaware of it. How your arms ache to embrace them, how you suffer not impressing them. How much broader, stronger and livelier you feel and want to be. _For_ them. Are they a perfect glove fit? No. You have to squeeze odd bits in, slice off other scraps to work them in. But you _want_ to fit them in. In the night, you are their guard. You strive to examine every inch of them and come out with full marks. Because... they're beautiful. That mole on their hip, the dip at the edge of their stomach where you sip, lapping as you watch them sigh and swim in emotion. The slightly larger nail of their right little finger. That dagger-point glint that is a sewn-in-star synonymously, winking from their eyes, those green odysseys. Odyseyes. The different salts of their body. Sad salts. Blissed salts. The whacked back, slapped heart, choked throat fuck-up of agony that scratches out from your lungs- wailing, shrieking infant of a starving violin- when there is even the slightest threat to their wellbeing. The way they humour you, spoil you, admonish you, scream at you. Their grace, wit, idiocy, clumsiness. Their fire, kindness, incomparable heart. Their determination. Their... thoughts. Dreams, licks, flicks and nicks... Every moment as spellbinding as a bumblebee floating onto your finger to explore it rather than sting you... so much so that you learn to not stare at them every second of the day. You learn to. Otherwise, you do nothing else. And then you're no use... to them."

There was a long quiet. The man opposite him seemed cynical, awed and saddened all at the same time, managing an admirable amount of blank-facedness as well.

"You make it sound wretched."

Akihiko's head fell back onto his pillow, smiling as his eyes closed and an icy cold hand pressed on his forehead. Misaki's voice. He was here. Finally.

"It's wonderful," Akihiko countered, opening his eyes to watch Misaki unwind his scarf and pull up a chair to sit next to the bed. He loved how Misaki paid no attention to anyone else in the room as he cleared the plastic cups and old flowers from the bedside table and refreshed it with new purple crocuses and a bowl of satsumas. There was a deep V between his eyebrows all the while.

"Well, you look better than you did yesterday," Misaki declared.


	71. Hey

Drabble No. 71 : )

(This is not a suggestion, I'm working on the suggestions- they're all so good, I can't choose! Thank you so much, all, for your co-operation!)

This is not so much a drabble as... something to play with... ^.^

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><p><span>'Hey'<span>

Usagi-san, serious, walks into the piano bar; broad shoulders emphasised by a sharp-cut, fitted suit. Silver hair shimmering.

Misaki at a table far away watches the handsome man enter and can't help but bite his lip, cheeks tingling as he swallows and the man- Akihiko- straightens his tie and walks-

Straight towards him.

Song: 'Hey, Big Spender!' Shirley Bassey. Consider every word carefully, each syllable a juicy, sweet, sultry morsel as a blue-moon tango of love scenes and intense glances strike, slide, stroke and swim in your mind...

Misaki's hand grasping Akihiko's tie as Misaki strains backwards in bliss on Akihiko's lap...

Eyes closed.

Lights...

Off.


	72. Fazed

Drabble No. 73 : )

(This is not a suggestion, I'm working on the suggestions- they're all so good, I can't choose! Thank you so much, all, for your co-operation!)

Merry Christmas! Please review ^.^ Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for your delightfully cheery comments! Best presents!

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><p><span>'Fazed'<span>

Akihiko chuckled as Misaki stared at the array of mincepies in front of them, on the red-covered stand at the market in town. People bustled around them, fleeting and wondrous as snow, laughing and wide-eyed as cat-tails of mist and white breath caressed the red-cheeked faces of playful, excited children.

"I... don't know..." Misaki replied to Akihiko's question of which English Christmas snack he wanted.

"Well, we have no other plans," Akihiko smiled, pulling open his coat and wrapping it around Misaki's petite figure. Misaki hesitated for a moment before giving in to the wonderful warmth, the comforting smell and reassuring strength. It felt splendid.

Akihiko's chin rested on top of Misaki's head and they both sighed, then laughed- still gloriously dazed and fazed (the lesser-known reindeer) at how in-sync they were.

"Are you two going to make a decision or are we going to spend the whole day at one stand and end up with no supper for tonight?"

Father and son looked up, otherwise unmoving from their position, as a man half the size of Akihiko with holly-green eyes and prickled-red cheeks stormed towards them with paper bags filled with an assortment of Christmas necessities. Misaki-chan quickly defended his father.

"Dada was just going to buy me a cake so I didn't get hungry and wind you up. He says that you need to be calm!" He was wickedly adorable. Misaki Sr. blinked a couple of times and grumbled as he went to stand next to Akihiko, who sent him a charming smile. But Misaki Sr. was not deceived. In the corner of those glossy violet eyes was a glint of mischief that foretold of nightly frolicking. Before he had a chance to move, Akihiko opened up his long coat and wrapped it around both of his Misakis.

For the sake of their son, Misaki tried not to gripe too much. Secretly, he found that he couldn't be filled with more joy as he bashfully fumbled around for his husband's hand.

Which was already there and wrapped around his.


	73. Spice

Drabble No. 74 : )

(This is not a suggestion, I'm working on the suggestions- they're all so good, I can't choose! Thank you so much, all, for your co-operation!)

Merry Christmas! Please review ^.^ Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for your delightfully cheery comments! Best presents!

* * *

><p><span>'Spice'<span>

"Are you cold?" Akihiko asked as he moved slowly inside of Misaki. Misaki shivered and shook his head, wrapping both arms tighter around his husband's neck.

"No," Misaki whispered, pressing his forehead into Akihiko's neck. Akihiko chuckled softly as he felt how hot Misaki was. He glided his nose behind Misaki's ear and praised his neck with kisses as sweet and tiny as holly-berries. Both of his hands supported Misaki's lower back, thumbs on his hips stroking rhythmically.

Straining to stay steady- knowing his husband's achiness since his antics at their son's Christmas Sport's Day- Akihiko's groan turned into a restrained growl. He began to lovingly lick the dip at the end of Misaki's neck; his suprasternal notch. Misaki's fevered hands trailed down Akihiko's broad back- broader now than it had been years before- trailing tongues of fire over the muscles.

The room was midnight blue and hazy around them- a dreamworld. Their dreamworld, where they were unashamedly naked.

As Akihiko rolled his forehead over Misaki's collarbone in frustration, Misaki couldn't help but smile.

"You... You don't have to hold back," he soothed, encouraging Akihiko's head up with his hands and stroking through his warm hair. He gently stroked around Akihiko's ears with his index fingers and thumbs. Akihiko sighed and groaned again, rolling his neck around as he began to patiently increase his drive.

"Daddy!" The adorable voice of their son reached them from the bedroom two doors down.

Akihiko stopped in his stride, hand mid-way to Misaki's groin. They both froze. A strange surge of glee sang through Akihiko's body as he felt Misaki's hands scrunch on his back in agitation. Good to know he was enjoying himself...

Pressing his strong chest against Misaki's- hearts arguing against one another- he nestled his face between Misaki's neck and shoulder, repressing a pleasured groan at the familiar cinnamon-spice scent that greeted him, and whispered,

"Close, are you?"

Misaki gulped and nodded.

"But-"

Swift, Akihiko pushed Misaki's knee right up, raised his own hips higher and thrust, hard, covering Misaki's mouth with one hand as the other clasped around Misaki's penis and massaged- all at the same time. Misaki gasped and yelled incoherently into his husband's palm. He closed his eyes and raked his nails down Akihiko's back as the duvet covers glided off them and onto the floor.

"I was holding back because I didn't think you could take it," Akihiko teased.

"Daddy!"

"Three minutes, Misaki," Akihiko called back, breathing down on Misaki's nipple before latching his mouth onto it and starting to ram into him mercilessly, eliciting a continuous pattern of gratified moans. God, Akihiko loved his husband. So... reactive.

"Three minutes? Who are you speaking to?" Misaki asked, raggedly, opening his eyes and almost coming just by looking into those sexy eyes. Akihiko was the same. They stared at one another, awe-inspired by the love that suddenly rushed through them. Misaki contracted himself around Akihiko's penis, an exercise he'd perfected in recent years. Not too quickly, tortuously slow but strong enough to wrest out the deliciously delayed groan that announced the power-surge in Akihiko necessary to unleash the beast.

"I was speaking," _One. Long. Thrust_. "To both of you." Akihiko grinned, drastically changing his pace. Misaki gasped and arched his neck back into the pillow, head banging into the bed headboard as he dug his nails into the back of Akihiko's neck. They both gritted their teeth.

"I can take it," Misaki grimaced, glaring at Akihiko in between moans.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah!" Misaki hissed.

"Really?" Akihiko asked, lips an inch from Misaki's. They both shot forward to kiss one another, impassioned.

"Daaaaaaddy! Daaaaaaddy! PaaaaPa! PaaaaPa! D-A-D-D-Y! P-a-p-a-p-a-p-a..."

"Gah!" Misaki pulled back from the kiss, gasping. His heart was hurdling in his chest at marathon speed. He felt like he was glowing inside, as he always did. Akihiko was in awe of his husband- those snakehips that ground up into him, the flexibility of those legs constricting around his back, those magic fingers that drove him to primal, wild actions he simply could not account for. In the past couple of years, their sex had been sensational- thrilling, even. In a blink, Misaki had Akihiko at his beck and call. A subtle bite of the lip, bending down for the cupboards in the kitchen... and Akihiko was done for. Misaki was getting better with age.

"Pa, pa, Da, Da. Daddyyyyyy!"

Panting, both Akihiko and Misaki called back,

"In a minute!"

"A minute... really? Still that good?" Misaki rallied. Akihiko slid slickly out of Misaki and then pushed back in, licking all the way up Misaki's throat simultaneously. Misaki held his breath, arched his whole body into Akihiko and tightened his body in every way imaginable.

Thirty seconds later and Misaki was teetering on the golden edge, waiting for signs that Akihiko was close too. He gasped and panted as Akihiko grunted- exerting himself more than usual. Misaki blinked by Akihiko's shoulder and Akihiko shivered at the tickle of Misaki's eyelashes.

"Everything okay?" Misaki asked, softly, as kindly as he could. Akihiko heaved out a sigh and broadened his shoulders, biting the curve of Misaki's shoulder. Inside, Misaki felt Akihiko's pulse began to slow-

Was Akihiko's body giving up?

Almost unbelievably, that had never happened. In the past couple of years, Akihiko's sexual ego had been majorly boosted by Misaki's sexual revelations and his rising enthusiasm, in the bedroom at least. It had meant that Misaki restrained himself a lot more outside.

Misaki had to act quickly before the man's pride was stabbed irretrievably. Misaki would have to ponder over Akihiko's ageing another time. A sexually-wounded Akihiko was not an option. The ensuing depression _was not a possibility _he was going to give attention to_._

Placing both hands on Akihiko's chest, Misaki reared back and stared his husband in the eye with the best sultry look he could.

"Can I take a ride on Santa's sleigh?"

If anything, that picked Akihiko's pulse right back up. Akihiko seemed speechless. Within seconds- Misaki kissing Akihiko's mouth as a distraction to the temporary swap of masculinity- Misaki was straddling Akihiko. His hands were still on Akihiko's chest.

Relishing the moment, Akihiko gripped Misaki's hips and bucked upward, striking Misaki's pleasure-spot with supreme talent. They both laughed, quietly as they could. Without wasting another moment so as not to lose the hypnotising, enthralling pulses coiling inside them both, Misaki indeed began to ride. He pulled out every trick he knew.

Scratches down the chest, ear-lobe sucks, getting faster, then slower, faster then slower-

"Bite me," Akihiko hissed. Misaki did not allow his mind to speak, but leant in immediately and nipped at Akihiko's nipple. Akihiko's body shuddered as though he had been electrocuted and his torso reared up. He embraced Misaki tightly and soon they were rising and falling as one, eyes scrunched closed as Akihiko sucked a hickey in the middle of Misaki's throat. Misaki contracted tighter and tighter, moaning...

"_A-Ah!_" That was the tell-tale warning Misaki needed. That divine, low hitch of breath- Akihiko was right near the path to peak. All he needed was a little nudge-

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Misaki whispered. He was thrown back onto the bed and rammed into so fast that he felt like an eighteen year old again, pummelled by a master who somehow knew _exactly _where his prostrate was-! "Yes, yes, yes! Uh! Come on!"

"Daaaaaddyy!"

Time for the ace:

"You're the sexiest man alive." Too enraptured to be stunned by his confident words, Misaki shot his hand out to cover Akihiko's mouth just as Akihiko reached out to do Misaki the same service.

One overwhelming cry and one mighty roar later and Akihiko was strewn over Misaki like an oversized rug, fingers on autopilot as they followed the buzz travelling through Misaki that arrived every time they made love.

"Daddy?" Misaki nipped Akihiko's ear and managed to climb out from under him. Akihiko's face was eaten up by the pillow as his body deflated, exhausted. He pecked Akihiko's cheek before he cleaned himself up with the nearby tissues, pulled on a t-shirt and some boxers and made his way to his son's room.

"Papa's coming."

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><p>Review please : )<p> 


	74. Coffee

Drabble No. 74 : )

Please review as honestly as you can ^.^ Thank you for reading, if you do.

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><p>Hiroki was stone-still. Medusa had sneaked up on him and stunned him. No... no excuses.<p>

Nowaki was the one who had stunned him.

From the doorway, Hiroki stared at the slumbering giant in their bed. Naked, Nowaki's head was profile on his pillow, chin raised and eyes so peacefully closed. His hair was like black silk, settled sexily over one eye. One muscled arm was akimbo whilst the other was bent upward, palm facing the ceiling just by his nose. The grey-blue sheets were twisted around his upper thighs and waist; just above his navel.

Each carved, muscular contour (of which he had toured vigorously) of Nowaki's torso was like a path sliced through desert sands. But these sands were cool and just a shade darker than the pallor of the moon.

The arch of his neck was like the swerve of a cello's body and what music played from that long, strong throat...

For moments, Hiroki was utterly mesmerised with those thighs... he recalled how they tautened, then readjusted then tautened again as he thrust...

"Hiro-san?" Hiroki's eyes drifted up dreamily to the source of the sound.

Nowaki was propped up on an elbow, staring at him, smiling with a devilish peak at one corner of his lips.

"Hiro-san, that coffee is going to get cold if you stand there ogling me all day," Nowaki teased in that husky voice he employed in special situations. He proceeded to sit up, triceps flexing as he pushed himself up and rolled his neck to the side. Hiroki was so distracted by the manner in which Nowaki's pecs sat so satisfied and with such manliness on that marvellous chest that it took a couple of embarrassing seconds for his brain to catch up.

"I wasn't ogling!" Hiroki spurted, bustling into the room and putting Nowaki's coffee mug next to him on the bedside table, then moving to bustle round to his side. But Nowaki's arm swung around his waist and that force alone was enough to cause Hiroki to fall onto Nowaki's lap, almost spilling his coffee. Hiroki sat profile to Nowaki, legs over Nowaki's knees. "Hey-" Hiroki began to protest.

"'Hey' nothing," Nowaki grinned. "You can ogle me whenever you like, _however_ you like. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

"Stop being so darned full of yourself!" Hiroki snapped, almost punching his fists down next to him like a frustrated toddler (the dimensions of the couple would excuse anyone to make the comparison). "I noticed a cut on your leg, is all."

"Oh really?" Nowaki purred, beaming.

"Yes," Hiroki hissed, "Really!" And he tried to get up. Nowaki caught Hiroki's chin between his finger and thumb and locked eyes with him.

"As a doctor, I feel it is my contractual duty to tell you that legs do not grow from the pectorals."

Hiroki steamed like a freshly boiled kettle, but before he could pipe his excuses, Nowaki met Hiroki's literally hot lips with a kiss.

Nowaki growled joyfully before Hiroki broke away and instantly poured his coffee onto Nowaki's lap, expecting a well-deserved yelp. He knew the drink was not hot enough to result in burns but it was the only ace he had. Nowaki did not yelp. He looked down at the same time as Hiroki did but looked up beforehand, smirking. The combination of morning, arguing with Hiroki and the cold drink had woken up more than his mind.

"If you were so lusty to see that part of me, you needn't have spilled cold coffee onto it."

Twenty minutes later and Nowaki was trying to persuade Hiroki that their raunchy efforts in cleaning up that coffee weren't such a bad pitch for the sex condiment industry.

"I'm telling you, coffee coc-"

"DON'T YOU DARE EVEN SAY IT."


	75. Butterfly

Drabble No. 75! Thank you all for your sunshine-warm reviews and favourites. Help yourselves to cookies and ice cream and muffins on your way out : )

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><p><em><em>'Butterfly'

_It will rain and you will gain_

_A sadder song than me._

_For in this life,_  
><em>Mortal and Rife<em>  
><em>With des'late harmony<em>

_There is a man_  
><em>A family man<em>  
><em>Who can hold you in his arms-<em>

_No tricks of trade_  
><em>No battle spade<em>  
><em>Just love, no words to be mislaid.<em>

_It is in years we learn that_  
><em>Tears<em>  
><em>Aren't wept for sorrow-<em>  
><em>JOY<em>

_Is what we cry._

_Because we know_  
><em>Oh humblest snow<em>  
><em>That we have loved, have gained<em>

_A bliss in one ensorcelled kiss,_  
><em>Who'd miss<em>  
><em>For any<em>  
><em>That butterfly whis-<em>

_Per... _

"What's that?" Misaki asked, eyes wide as he read over Usagi's shoulder in the dark room.

"A poem..." he cleared his throat. "Our poem. That evening, in words. Takahiro, the engagement... Our first kiss."

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><p>Reviews would be warmly received : ) But either way, I just hope you enjoyed this.<p> 


	76. Banana

No. 76!

Thank you for all the lovely comments, favourites and subscriptions ^.^ Have an octopi-sausage on your way out : )

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><p><span>Banana<span>

_He... he's turned me into a nymphomaniac..._

Spookily, this was the same thought of two boys in the cafeteria of the college one sunny, sunny day. One Takahashi Misaki and one Takatsuki Shinobu.

What inspired both stukes (student ukes) into open-mouthed fantasy was the dessert on offer.

Bananas with whipped cream and caramel sauce.

_He's perverted my brain__!_ Thought one.

_A plan is formulating..._ Thought the other.


	77. Pervacious

No. 77!

Thank you for all the lovely comments, favourites and subscriptions ^.^ Have an octopi-sausage on your way out : )

Usagi seems to be especially horny today... excuse him and humour him and don't blame me!

Reviews would be... *ahem* lappable ^.^

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><p><span>Pervacious<span>

_'Ice. Spice._

_And tongue to entice._

_Three ingredients for a pervacious (word concocted especially for 'pervy' author's menu), hungry 'Lord of the Manor' on his hunt for his beloved, lappable (define word as you will, be it that Misaki is wondrous to lick or a swell straddler) _époux_ [Translation: spouse]...'_

These are the words penned in Akihiko's secret pad, which he slipped into a secret inside pocket of his waistcoat.

"Misaki, I'm going out to get smokes- need anything?" he beckoned.

"No, thank you," Misaki called back.

_Oh, you will be thanking me... eventually, my little cock au vin..._


	78. Dynamite

No. 78!

Thank you for all the lovely comments, favourites and subscriptions ^.^ Have an octopi-sausage on your way out : )

Here's some Nowaki wickedness ^.~ Well, hopefully you'll find it wicked : )

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><p><span>Dynamite<span>

"_Ah_!"

Nowaki groaned at the sound Hiroki made as he leisurely slid himself in and out of his lover in the dark, night-lit bedroom. His large hand was spread over Hiroki's warm chest, catching every hysterical heartbeat in harmony with the soft kisses he stowed along Hiroki's gradually arching spine. Just before Nowaki's lips landed on Hiroki's coccyx, he pushed himself all the way in and fast, biting a burning bite to the curve of Hiroki's neck.

Hiroki bucked back and up in total satisfaction. Nowaki stroked his thumb over Hiroki's pert nipple as he heard Hiroki gulp and begin to quietly pant.

"So, I believe this is what is called a 'booty-call'?" Nowaki whispered into Hiroki's hot, sweet ear. He tasted it from lobule to helix as Hiroki moaned, curving his back upwards to meet his lover's muscled torso. Nowaki laughed breathily in gleeful submission as Hiroki contracted around him, resting his damp forehead between Hiroki's fine shoulder blades. They both shivered and gasped as Hiroki relaxed a little. Nowaki nuzzled the nape of Hiroki's neck and into his hot hair.

"You think... I could watch you... leave in that white coat after you... showed off those abs- _ah_!" Nowaki grinned behind him and thrusted, hard, as he ego buzzed. "After your..." Hiroki caught his breath and snaked his spine, curved his neck to the side and contracted again. Nowaki's nails- cut so finely for health measures- dug into Hiroki's chest as the doctor half roared, half groaned. "Shower... this morning?"

"You've seen it before," Nowaki teased, teasing Hiroki's throat with his free fingers at the same time.

"Not on," Hiroki replied, encouraging with his hips a deeper, steadier rhythm from Nowaki. Nowaki complied.

"What if I'd had to stay at the hospital and ignore those demanding texts?"

As Nowaki hit a particuarly sweet spot within him, Hiroki's elbows gave in and he bowed his head to the pillows, only his rear and legs off the bed.

"Then I would have... called another doctor and asked them."

Nowaki froze mid-thrust. Hiroki opened his eyes and smirked wickedly to himself. He could almost sense Nowaki's jealousy being lit like dynamite.

It happened swift and it happened hard.

Nowaki pulled out of Hiroki.

He spun him around.

He picked him up with one arm.

He pushed him against the wall next to the bed.

He paired Hiroki's wrists and pinned them above his head with almost too tight a grip.

He kicked Hiroki's ankles apart, quick.

He pressed himself flush against Hiroki's back, allowing him to feel his full masculinity as bait, without hooking, so to speak.

"Go on," Nowaki dared. Hiroki inhaled and licked his lower lip.

"What's more to say?" he retorted, almost hissing with glee. "I'd call, they'd come round. They'd fuck me- _UH_!" Nowaki was in.

"Like that?" Nowaki steamed into Hiroki's ear.

"Barely." Hiroki swallowed, breathless as his heart hammered. "They'd do it much harder." Two thrust followed in slick succession.

No. 1 had Hiroki and Nowaki gritting their teeth.

No. 2 almost lifted Hiroki off his feet, save for a few toes.

"Then what?" Nowaki panted, encircling Hiroki's waist with an iron-strong arm, as if in silent affection.

"Well, I'd tell them to get out quick before my doctor boyfriend arrived and kicked their sorry butt." Hiroki felt Nowaki's chest inflate with pride and he shivered a little, turned-on by primal, possessive Nowaki.

Nowaki scratched up from Hiroki's hip in a diagonal venture to Hiroki's neck. He kissed softly behind the opposite ear.

"A star, Professor Kamijō."

"Thank you, Doctor Kusama."

"Mmm..." Letting go of Hiroki's wrists, Nowaki stretched out and got the bottle of lube that was standing quite voyeurishly on the nightstand. He spilled some on their connected bodies, insuring Hiroki was looked after. Then, with no more ado, he stroked Hiroki's lower lip. "Now, open wide and say 'ahhh' for me."

"Ahhh..." Nowaki's thumb got three inches into Hiroki's mouth before he bit down on it, sucked and then pulled away and Nowaki began to rut and pummel against him determinately.

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><p>If you liked, review! Please : ) If not, no worries, have a nuzzle from Nowaki on your way out ^.^<p>

Nowaki: Hey, you can't just pimp me out like-

Hiroki: If it means we get to shag like that again, yes she can. Go ahead.

You heard the man ^.^


	79. Flex

No. 79!

Thank you for all the lovely comments, favourites and subscriptions ^.^ Have an octopi-sausage on your way out : )

Any feedback is warmly welcomed- it really helps to hear opinions about specifics : )

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><p><span>Flex<span>

Fingernails tapped slowly, _painfully_ slowly, on the desk in the dark room, lit only by the white-blue glare of Akihiko's laptop screen. His other hand was rested on his mouth, the side of his index finger pressed between his lips as his elbow rested on the side of the silver Mac Book.

_No... inspiration_, his mind rasped, parched and thirsty.

Akihiko narrowed his eyes at the blank document, threateningly. He gritted his teeth. He brought his hands together, leaned back and stretched his arms out, catching sight of a particuarly sexy flex of muscle in his bicep. He pursed his lips, inhaled through his nose, blinked at the sofa at the other end of the room...

And then swiped his white t-shirt off, undid the top button of his trousers, rolled his shoulders back and- barefoot- padded to the couch. He lay back in it and positioned himself appropriately. Well- appropriate for Akihiko.

"Misaki!" He called. "Can you come and help me, please?" He ensured his voice was as non-predatory as possible.

"One sec... okay! Are you in the office?" Misaki called back from downstairs.

"Yup!" Akihiko admired his abs and muttered to himself, "Soon to be in your orifice."

Misaki tapped on the door a moment later and then pushed it open and walked in. Akihiko's head lolled on the arm of the sofa to look at him. He feigned discomfort, even through Misaki's blink and blush.

"Can you just check if I have a temperature?" Misaki eyed the open laptop, the blank document and sighed.

"When did you last eat?"

"Um..." Akihiko resisted the temptation to elaborate innuendo to Misaki's question. "Can't remember." Misaki sighed again and flip-flopped over to him.

"I've got work to do too, you know."

"I know, I'm sorry, I just-" Misaki's cool hand pressed on Akihiko's forehead. Akihiko closed his eyes and held back his devilish smile. He waited two seconds, waited for Misaki's intake of breath before he spoke and then swiftly grabbed Misaki's forearm and pulled him on top of him, shifting with such skill that Misaki ended up straddling him.

"Hey!" Misaki protested, wrists held firmly down on Akihiko's stomach by one of Akihiko's hands. Akihiko tilted his head to the side and flexed a pec, eyes trained calmly on Misaki's. He knew he'd trapped Misaki the second the uke gulped.


	80. Drink

No. 80! Wow... and I started this in the Summer as a little collection... I suppose it's not that big, though... *stop rambling to the readers* oh, sorry! I hope you enjoy and reviewing helps me a lot ^.^ Be honest ^.^

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><p><span>Drink<span>

Misaki _was_ going to be patient. He _was_ going to stand politely and listen to the man talking to him. He _was _going to be attentive to this man and not the man who called himself his lover, over on the other side of the room, just about spy-able through the buzzing mass of literary critics and professionals.

He _was not_ going to collect another champagne glass, fly over there and chuck it over 'so-very-female-with-my-large-female-assets' in her 'notice-me-Usami Akihiko-notice-me-sparkling-in-silver-for-you' dress with her 'ready-to-scratch-you-down-the-back', manicured nails on his-

"Subtly strong, secretly super bicep... in that sexy suit..."

"Young man?" The man Misaki was supposed to be conversing with sounded alarmed. Misaki burned all over with embarrassment as he realised he'd just drooled, with words, aloud.

And thus Misaki learnt that he definitely could not hold his drink...

Especially when, moments later, it splashed so satisfactorily over the 'stroking-_my_-sexy-novelist's-arm' lady...

Who just so happened to be the benefactor of the convention, focused on awarding Akihiko the top prize.

Akihiko did not stop laughing all the way out of the building, all the way home in the car, all the way up to the apartment, all the way up to their bedroom-

All the way through a 'thank-you-for-getting-me-out-of-that-bullshit' blow-job for Misaki.


	81. Jealous

No. 81! Thank you everyone for reviewing and favouriting and subscribing and... woot! Makes my heart beat with happiness to know that people are enjoying these!

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><p><span>Jealous<span>

"So, who is this new beau, then, Shinobu?" Mr. Takatsuki asked. Four heads around the long, oak dinner table, turned to the munching teen who- along with Miyagi sitting next to him, rather nervously- was relishing the relish that was not... cabbage.

Miyagi nudged Shinobu's ankle with his foot under the table and that was all Shinobu needed in order to know what had occurred.

He set down his chicken drumstick, blinked his mercury-silver eyes at his plate and gathered himself. He had to distract himself from the sex that was sitting beside him, still in his teacher's suit- Yoh-sensei: white shirt that emphasised those broad shoulders, thin black tie that partitioned those deliciously defined pecs, black trousers on those long, lithe legs-

And now the polished black shoe against his ankle.

It told him this: that someone, probably Shinobu's sister or Miyagi himself, had wagged their tongues about Shinobu being in a relationship that did not consist of his father-the dean's- favoured employee. If it had been his sister, it would have been in order to sway attention away from her slightly noticeable, mysterious baby bump. If it was Miyagi, it was in order to cover his ridiculously well-sculpted ass.

Shinobu took a deep breath and straightened his shirt under his sweater-vest. The chandelier glittered rapturously above their heads. Gilded, glistering guillotine.

"_She_-" Miyagi's shoulders dropped an inch as Shinobu spoke- "is small and blonde." _What..._ said Miyagi's secret little grimace as his dabbed his mouth with his napkin. Shinobu was not done fabricating his 'new beau' for two reasons. One, he was fairly sure this situation had grown from a seed Miyagi had sown and Two, Miyagi had- on account of 'tiredness' and 'marking'- not marked Shinobu's heinie for a sore five days now. "She's patient and a masterhand at Poker-" Shinobu always beat Miyagi- "and she's a damn fine chef, too. Of course, we're don't really get round to much cooking in the kitchen." Here, Shinobu employed some devilishly good acting skills and blushed and rubbed his neck, to emphasise his innuendo. "She's a student in Miyagi's class- lovely, isn't she?"

Miyagi blinked and straightened his back. This was a surreal scene for him- Shinobu's father had invited him round for supper as a thank-you for his hospitality to a visiting teacher from England (Miyagi was the most skilled at English conversation) and in an attempt to heal the bitterness between himself and Shinobu's sister. Now he was learning that Shinobu had a partner? A girl, by the sounds of it?

"Yes. Not too bright, rather average- nice fit for you, eh, Shinobu-chan?" Miyagi answered, laughing. The Dean laughed too.

"Actually, she's very smart. Helping me with my literature homework."

"Is that so?" Miyagi was struggling to keep his tone innocent.

Two hours later and Miyagi and Shinobu had returned to their block of flats, headed for their seperate apartments because they were both tired. In the elevator, Shinobu broke the intense silence that had formed for the past sixty minutes.

"Can't believe you got jealous over a fictional teenage girl."

"How was I to know she was fictional?"

"I thought you had lied to my dad. You nudged my foot!"

"No! Well, yeah. But that was affection."

"Pfft- warning more like to cover your sorry, fire-able ass. You told them I was in a-"

"Not me. It's that sister of yours."

"Your ex-wife?"

"That's the one."

The elevator doors pinged open. They both strolled out, Shinobu thinking about how smoothly they had managed to fool his father that they were headed for seperate buildings on the same travel route. Miyagi was a fairhand at chicanery.

"At least I didn't tell him about my real 'beau'," Shinobu mused as they got to his door. He leaned against it after unlocking it as Miyagi fiddled with his keys for the apartment next door.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. He's big, strong, sexy, smart..."

"'Bout my height?" Miyagi chuckled.

"Nope. Taller. Fierce shag, has me coming at least three times a night," and with that, Shinobu dashed into his apartment, glimpsing the instinctive shock and jealousy on Miyagi's face. He thought he'd gained revenge for another night of no sex, but the door wouldn't close.

That polished black shoe was jamming it.

"Open. Now."

Shinobu smirked and bit his lower lip. So maybe some sex...?

Minutes later, fingers were laced in night-black hair flecked with star-white and Miyagi was more primal than ever, Shinobu pressed against his otherwise unused kitchen counter in a position that was unlikely to be in the top ten list of extra-curicular activities.

Yum, Yoh.

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><p>Reviews really would be lovely, but either way I hope you enjoyed!<p> 


	82. Sunshine

No. 82! I hope you enjoy, I do, I do! Review, if you, should feel need to ^.^

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><p><span>Sunshine<span>

The _jus_ of the sun- auburn and won over with flattery by the hazel clouds- lay lightly in Akihiko's eyes, fine silk of apricot coating his irises that bloomed like 'million bells' flowers.

His opal skin was honeyed with the warm rays, his eyelashes glinted by champagne-sparkling sunshine.

And his hair... a buxom, frolicking marriage of silver and gold, not as cold as coins in a purse nor as crude but as resplendent and elegant as the manes of angels.

And yet he was still man. _Man_. Strong. Confident. Proud. But an artist, nonetheless, as we all are when Nature shines her spotlight on us and asks us what we did or plan to do...

Misaki stood in the field as the barley wheat blew. And gaped. His slender hand trembled as he tightened his fists on the handles of the picnic hamper. Akihiko turned his face from the sun.

"Misaki?" he inquired immediately, worried by the woeful expression on his lover's rosy face. 'Twas not woe but awe.

"You. Your. You're..." Misaki looked down at the hamper, feet rooted into the French soil. Then he whispered and Akihiko glided gently forward to hear: "The sun must have been pleased to have something beautiful to look on."


	83. Flummoxed

No. 83! This one is for Kristin from Italy - excellent word prompt (I hope I did it proud) and thank you for your vivifying words, generous encouragement and friendly banter. To all, I hope you enjoy! It would be great to know what you think, but either way- have some cookies and ice cream : )

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><p><span>Flummoxed<span>

Miyagi strode through the wide, brightly-lit, shiny-floored hallway, secretly enjoying the authoritative echo of his footsteps as he passed various groups of students at lockers or outside classroom doors waiting to be let in.

He was on a mission.

Presently, he reached the 'X' on the treasure map. He was planning to surprise Shinobu in a fifteen-minute break and take him for some 'extra tuition' in an available classroom. It was a giggle of fate that just as he reached the auditorium door, Shinobu and two other students (one taller and one about the same height as his lover) exited. Shinobu was holding his books to his chest with one arm as his other hand held onto the strap of his bag at his shoulder. He was wearing a dark green, zip-up jumper and sand-coloured trousers and brown lace-up shoes, auburn hair ruffled from the wear-and-tear of the college day. In the two seconds it took for the heavy door to close and potentially reveal Miyagi, Shinobu's companion spoke words powerful enough to persuade Miyagi to hide behind a protruding block of wall left behind from where a wider wall had been knocked down years beforehand. Students walking past him from and to the stairway did not seem bothered by his position. The conversation Miyagi was honed in on was hard to listen to what with the leftover buzz of laughter and shouts of the busy student body.

"...Sumi likes Kamijo? I'm not gay, but if I was I'd go for that Yoh teacher. What do you think Shinobu-senpai?"

It was as if the cherubs in heaven had gotten bored and tied together two strands of serendipity for some light entertainment- like one might choose a half-hour sitcom over a documentary. Miyagi smiled and waited for Shinobu's reply, expecting some criticism of Miyagi's appeal.

"Him? That old man?" Miyagi snuffed out a laugh through his nose, quiet as a whisper. That had been expected. If anything, 'old man' was an affectionate term.

"Ahh, come on, he looks old in that attractive way, you know?"

"Meh, I know what you mean and all but come on- that stubble look is just plain lazy, he wears the same, boring suit every day- even though he's gained at least a stone in the holidays- and those lines on his face look like a nursery kid's attempts at Kanji." Shinobu's friends laughed and the three of them moved away from Miyagi, down the hallway to the canteen.

Miyagi slouched slightly against the wall behind him and blinked at the ground, face expressionless. He felt as though someone was pinching the skin at the hollow of his collarbone and his stomach was knotted inside him, causing quite some discomfort. His brain was slowly freezing.

There was no other word for it; he was flummoxed... bewildered.

He had predicted some blunt words, but... spite? Malice? No. Not even from Shinobu. He took a deep breath and stood up properly, trying not to be affected by the words. But words were his life- they'd come to be stronger than sticks and stones. He smiled, trenchantly, pulled his shoulders back and descended the stairs briskly in the direction of his office. It was the longer route, but he'd need a moment to gather himself before he had to set back to work.

It was fine. Shinobu was just... being a kid.

He got to his shared office and prepared for a deep, relaxing breath when he caught sight of his face in the window of the door. There were quite a few lines there...

He shook himself and pushed open the door with force then closed it as calmly as he could. The office was empty. He pushed through some scrolls on the desk nearest the door, still greatly distracted and consciously sucking in his stomach at the thought of that 'stone', trying to find a document he needed to sign when-

"That stubble look makes me want to kiss him every time I get a glance of him in the college and feels unbelievably arousing... That suit outlines his figure damnably well- those shoulders especially- and I love the weight he's put on; it's made him even more of a giant and doesn't make him look overweight at all just... more powerful and the smile and shock lines on his face remind me every day how experienced he is and just how lucky I am to learn and laugh and love with him."

Miyagi's whole body was buzzing and he turned to the source of the words: Shinobu, in the high-backed chair behind Hiroki's desk, had now turned around to face him. He continued to speak before Miyagi got the chance.

"Don't _ever_ believe what I say to other people. Mostly, it's because I'm bored of them but today it was to throw the two of them off the scent they thought they'd caught this morning when they saw me looking at you outside my father's office. Ever since, they've been slipping in little comments here and there and there's no way I'm giving them an inch to potentially combust this relationship. I didn't mean a single word I said to them. I mean the words I say to you." Shinobu was giving him a fierce look.

Miyagi- though he had a fireworks display crackling and glowing inside him- was cool-faced as he stood up and folded his arms.

"But you just narrated in the third person. Am I still to believe those-"

"Don't get all teachery on me or I may be forced to make you shag me here." The blush that tinged Shinobu's cheeks and ears reminded Miyagi how hard it was for Shinobu to talk about sex. He realised what a step Shinobu had taken in ensuring Miyagi's comprehension on the whole matter. Miyagi smiled.

"How did you know I was there?"

"I didn't, until I looked back to see if I'd dropped a paper and saw your stupid shoe peeking out from behind that wall-thing."

"Ah." Miyagi smiled some more and looked down at his folded arms. There was a pause before Shinobu continued.

"Right. So. I'm going to go now, if your wallowing is all over and done with." He got up from the chair, picked up his bag and walked over to and past Miyagi, Miyagi's eyes silking over Shinobu's every move, the rest of his body rigid. "Some of us actually have to work whilst others procrastinate over all this emotional bull-" Miyagi caught Shinobu's arm and spun him round. He sewed a slow, gentle kiss onto Shinobu's lips, breathing warmly across Shinobu's jaw before grazing his stubble tantalisingly faintly down and then up his neck. Shinobu let out a trembling gasp.

"Thank you," Miyagi whispered into his ear. Shinobu let out a non-committal hum as Miyagi let go of his arm and stood back. He left the office a little shakily.

Hiroki entered almost immediately, carrying a fragile stack of folders and loose papers.

"Done molesting the Dean's son?" he probed, tone highly disapproving and annoyed as he busied past him to his desk. He was privy to the relationship and though he was sceptical of it, had not said a word to the Dean. He actually trusted Miyagi to handle this sensitively and the boy, Shinobu, seemed aware enough of what he had gotten into. Besides, Hiroki was hardly one to judge another based on the age difference in their relationship...

"No. Not quite done," Miyagi smirked at the door and then whirled round and occupied himself with him work.

Humming happily all the way.


	84. Note

A note, found by Usagi upon waking up one white morning, in the kitchen. He is alone in the quiet apartment.

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><p>I know I should be asleep. Guilt is tapping on my spine and there are textbooks huffing and puffing next to my bed to be revised from. They feel unloved. But I am awake for other things. My throat is sore and my eyes have their own headaches as I write this note. You'd be none-too pleased with my position- hunched over- especially when I nag you constantly about your posture when you write. But I've been inspired: it's my turn to write and I thought it appropriate that I fashion myself in the style that is...<p>

You.

We've been... living in this apartment for seven years now. A slow sunrise with all the passion of a sunset and I still cannot see the horizon.

I daren't wake you. It's two o'clock in the morning. I am anxious about my upcoming exams. Your skin... Oh God, you told me it would be easier to write... this stuff.

You're skin smelled of marzipan this morning, your chest felt like silk (aside from that rough patch under your left arm, I knew you had a rash, _please_ go to the doctor soon).

Today was the first morning I woke up thinking only of my happiness.

And it was because of you.

I did not think of my parents, of my brother or college. I did not think of getting out of bed or shuffling away from you.

I was all joy.

And I want you to have it too. I learned something of words today: that sometimes they cannot be defined by letters but by moments, irrevocable. That sometimes they are expounded by kisses and married by hugs, not commas.

This is very disjointed.

But I... am happy for it. Because I know this will make you smile and I feel it as a glove to my cold heart- I know I have been cold.

Your lunch is in the fridge.

I've already made that doctor appointment. It's at four at the surgery around the corner. Go and if you do I promise to smile through whatever you choose... Oh God, what have I let myself in for. I should really stop saying 'Oh God'...

See you tonight

M x


	85. Prettily

Drabble No. 85!

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><p>White daisies flutter so prettily unto the foot of my love.<p>

It would rile him to know how sunflowers complement him so.

The purple tulip must paint under his eyes every morning so as to make exhaustion handsome.

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><p>COMPETITION: Each sentence relates to a couple (Egoist, Romantica &amp; Terrorist). Tell me which one relates to which couple and from whom to who? For example, sentence 'B12' is the E couple with M saying it to U. The winner NAMES THEIR PRIZE =D<p> 


	86. Playtime

Drabble No. 86!

The winner of the competition is Goku and Chichi Luverr!

White daisies flutter so prettily unto the foot of my love. Romantica, Usagi to Misaki

It would rile him to know how sunflowers complement him so. Egoist, Nowaki to Hiroki

The purple tulip must paint under his eyes every morning so as to make exhaustion handsome. Terrorist, Shinobu to Miyagi

Thank you Goku and Chichi Luverr ^.^ Pick your prize : )

Apologies to reviewers whom I have not replied to - I feel very rude. I will get on that a.s.a.p.! Thank you!

In the meantime, here's a midnight drabble!

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><p><span>Playtime<span>

Light flickered softly around the room, dim stars stroking the walls as Akihiko switched on one of his bedroom lamps. Misaki, lying next to him, was sound asleep; hair ruffled, one arm raised above his head on the pillow, lips parted and the sweetest of snores escaping from them.

Akihiko was hungry.

Silkily, he moved his legs down under the blankets, keeping a watchful eye on his lover as he twisted his torso and raised himself over Misaki. In seconds, his knees were on either side of Misaki's and his nose was just about kissing his partner's.

Breathing delicately, Akihiko traced his fingers over Misaki's smooth chest, treasuring the early ridges of muscle. He felt that much more masculine, knowing how muscular he himself was and how it aroused Misaki. Plenty of times, Akihiko had been whisking on a shirt or walking down the hallway with only a towel around his waist, to the shower room, and he had caught Misaki pause in whatever activity as his eyes widened and his eyebrows flinched together in a desperate sort of fashion. Of course, the moment passed and Misaki would resume resiliently.

As he followed the course of Misaki's navel, Akihiko's pecs flexed of their own accord and as he leaned down to quietly and faintly kiss down Misaki's neck his hand found a very pleasant spot.

Misaki groaned gently in his sleep and stretched both arms up before dropping them heavily on either side of his body, narrowly missing one of Akihiko's broad shoulders. Akihiko smiled and whispered Misaki's name into his ear, squeezing his hand mischievously. Misaki made a sound somewhere between a purr and a croak, turning his head on his pillow and- still slumbering- pushed his groin into Akihiko's welcoming palm, whose fingers were prepped for ace titillation. The sensation caused inspired a wonderfully uninhibited, powerfully blissful gasp from Misaki-

Here is where Akihiko's game was halted. It was a critical point: Misaki was just about waking up and his body would immediately tell him _he was horny_.

And- of course- there would be an oh-so-philanthropic man lying beside him, eternally eager to help.

Releasing Misaki's erection, Akihiko rolled off Misaki onto his side of the bed, lay on his back and waited.

It took less than half a minute for Misaki to regain consciousness and become aware of the energetic pulsing between his hips. He sat up in bed and felt instantly embarrassed, peeking at Akihiko's sleeping form beside him. As silently as he could, he shuffled out of the bed to go to the bathroom.

"Misaki?" Akihiko whispered, sleepily. Misaki stopped in his tracks and turned round in time to watch Akihiko rub open his eyes and then catch sight of Misaki's...

Not-so-little friend.

Playtime proceeded.


	87. Pine

Drabble No. 87!

Apologies to reviewers whom I have not replied to - I feel very rude. I will get on that a.s.a.p.! Thank you!

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><p><span>Pine<span>

His heat stroked my back like sunlight, through my shirt. I managed, somehow, to mask my moan as a sigh, closing my eyes for a brief moment as a peer of my father spoke to me about the apprenticeship free in his company. Miyagi's body seemed to purr behind me as he spoke in that low, low voice over my shoulder. Women in smart, coloured dresses and men in black suits chirped around us. The only reason I was here was because I was my father's son. I had hoped not to be seen by Miyagi, which was why I had opted for a light blue shirt and not my usual white. But Miyagi had been on the hunt since Tuesday (it was now Thursday)- I had escaped at a pivotal moment in his seduction because I had simply had to revise for the test on Wednesday. If I failed it, I wouldn't be able to look Miyagi in the eye; I needed to prove I was capable in his field.

"Oh, yes: Shinobu is a fine worker," Miyagi growled.

"Are you a teacher of his?"

"I've taught him a fair few things, yes." I did not dare turn around to look at him then.

"Literature?"

"Biology." This stumped Mr Ongashi. "Will you excuse us?" And with that, Miyagi placed his hand on my shoulder and steered me out of the room. His smell made my heart pine.

Alone in the hallway, he gently pushed me against the wall.

"You haven't even answered my emails."

"I've been busy," I muttered, staring at his shoes.

"Have I done something wrong?"

"No!" I exclaimed, head shooting up automatically to assure him. That did it. He was smirking. I admired his strong jaw- for once without stubble- and neck and yearned to run my fingers over those broad shoulders... He inhaled deeply, seemingly inhaling my body closer and I was hypnotised by those dark, dark eyes.

"Come. At nine, tonight."

"Don't you mean 'to mine', Mr Teacher? Grammar-"

"I meant what I said." He came closer to me for a second- chest at eye-level- and my hands balled into fists. I jolted as one of his hands encased mine and his thumb rubbed my knuckles soothingly. "I... I need you," he whispered into my hair. My hands trembled. I nodded. Then he went back into the conference room. I wondered if the lights were turned off in this hallway whether people could see where they were going by my glow.


	88. Night

Drabble No. 88

Reviews would be muchly appreciated.

Inspired by the song '9 Crimes' by Damien Rice.

NOTE: Events in individual drabbles do not necessarily affect future ones.

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><p><span>Night<span>

"No!" he retched, eyes swollen, face more skull than live. He heaved and hunched over, glaring at me for a second before those floral eyes wilted and wasted behind the blackness. Darkness. Night in his irises.

"I... I'm so sorry, Usami-sen-" I whispered, standing by the sofa...

Where I had seen them bicker, laugh, eat and love.

"No!" he cried out again, a lion's mournful bellow.

Purple clouds were a hearse to the sun, which dimmed respectfully. The room swam in sparkling shadow, much the same as the tears that ran numbly, continuously over the shell of a man before me. His arms were wrapped around his stomach, over his waistcoat and shirt...

That _he_ had cleaned, ironed, sniffed during the man's absences.

Grief, palpable, visible, crawled up his spine, through his hair under the nails now raking his scalp- as though he was trying to scratch away the memory, the knowledge.

The loss.

I bit my lip, chewed through lipstick and blood to hold back my sobs. I dared not relieve myself when pain personified was here before me... paralysis personified: he had not moved from his hunched over position- standing foetus- for minutes now.

I gasped hollowly, heart pinching in my chest, bruised. My arms wrapped around my chest, trying to imprison the cries. I closed my eyes, my nails nipping my arms through my shirt.

Then heard the thud.

He had fallen to his knees, head bowed to the evening sky. There was fire in one corner of the heavenly canvas, but black ink bled through the rest of the sky. Those tall, wide windows offered the spectacle. Funeral of the sun. _His _sun.

I hung my head and shook it from side to side, slowly. I could not go over to him. I had already caused-

"No, no... no, no, no... No. No." Not shouted. Wetly whispered.

I walked to his trembling form- stilettos a sorrowful metronome- and knelt beside him, looked at his face-

Tears no longer fell. His eyes were wide. His mouth was closed, three droplets of agony fainted on his grey lips. His skin was... pale, pale blue.

Silently, his eyes closed and steadily, he fell to the side, his arms released from his body. He seemed asleep, face expressionless.

"Usami-sensei?" I whispered. No reply. I noticed, suddenly, that his chest was not moving. After a minute of staring at him through hazy eyes, I reached out and touched his wrist, purposefully.

But I already knew.

That he had died too.


	89. Writing

Drabble No. 89

In no relation to previous drabble : )

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><p><span>Writing<span>

It was the last resort, something I never thought I would do. But he had not written in months.

He was sitting in the sunny living room, staring at his laptop. Aikawa-san had just left, nails bitten down to the quick.

"Right," I called, standing in front of him. I swept off my top and stepped out of my trousers and stood there in only my boxers.

Usagi-san looked up, blinked... then promptly abandoned his laptop and made to lunge at me.

"Oh, no, no, no," I laughed. "I've a deal to make: you write and I am..." I groaned inwardly, with a combination of two opposite emotions. "Yours for two days straight. If you don't write, I'm off to my brother's for a week. I've taken a week off from work anyway. So. This is, effectively, a life drawing... well, writing. Yes: a life writing."

His eyes sparkled- two purple, star-filled wonders- and I was, fittingly, star-struck by how very handsome he was.

I huffed in an effort to hide my complete adoration.

"So. How do you want me?" I asked, sternly. He raised an eyebrow and smirked, then pointed at his lap. "Don't be ridiculous- how will you write?" He pointed again. I inhaled deeply then moved over to him, shivering a little bit. I had lost a relatively large amount of my inhibitions in the past fifteen years, which helped me to straddle him rather quickly. It wasn't not comfortable...

In fact, having not been 'Usagied' in more than a week- due to a very hectic work schedule at the newspaper- it felt...

Wonderful.

The years had been rhapsodically kind to him. He had barely developed any lines on his face, save for a few fine ones at the corners of his eyes. His hair, still silver and most definitely not grey, had thinned ever so slightly but had not receded in the slightest and his body- far from the usual path of ageing- had buffed up instead of thinning or bloating. He wasn't severely muscled, more he was broader in the shoulders and chest and his legs had bulked up a little bit more. I had theorised, rather shallowly, to myself that his body had reacted to my growth spurt in turn, in order to maintain the 'natural order of things' (i.e. Usagi-san still strong enough to throw, shove, carry and hunt). If anything, I preferred it that way; preferred him a little less lanky... I had finally admitted and accepted that I was totally attracted to him.

Cruelly, Usagi-san bucked a little under me and I had to purse my lips to stop from biting them.

"Write," I commanded, through clenched teeth. He sort of nudged his nose in the air towards me, eyes softening as his fingers danced over a thigh. His mouth parted as he smiled. "You need to put some lip balm or something on your lips. They're too dry." I realised the trap I had lain for myself immediately. The years had not been kind on my intelligence... much.

"I'm sure you can moisten them," he murmured, his words buzzing off my neck. They were the first words he had spoken in two days.

"No. Not now! Write first. And properly!"


	90. Golden

Drabble No. 90 (version two)

It is with complete gratitude that I dedicate this drabble to Cerberus Revised, who so elegantly and philanthropically reminded me of the delicacy of the Japanese culture and therefore the unlikelihood that Shinobu would act so physically violent, especially to a female student in his own father's establishment. I am really very ashamed of myself for the oversight and will strive henceforth to remember the subtleties that make Junjou Romantica, Egoist & Terrorist so wonderful. Please read Cerberus Revised's work- you'll be sure to laugh and enjoy the craft ^.^

Many thanks. Many.

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><p><span>Golden<span>

"A shield, symbol and treasure of the Underworld- in Greek Mythology- the Cerberus was key to the system of Hell the Ancient Greeks created."

"Good, and where did it come from?"

"Typhon and Echidna!" someone shouted from the back of the auditorium. Miyagi nodded and clicked to a slide displaying the half-snake, half-woman and the fire-breathing giant: parents of the three (or five or one or fifty, depending on the story) headed dog.

"Very good, you've obviously been revising. Can anyone name three stories in which the arcane canine appeared?" The room went silent for a moment and Miyagi skimmed his eyes over the ten or so rows of students- some had gulped, some had scrunched up their eyes, some had begun to stare at their closed textbooks as though wishing for literary telepathy. "Oh, come now-" Miyagi paced the front of the hall, with his hands behind his back and a smirk on his face- "someone must have looked past page two!"

When Miyagi's ears were met with nothing but muted frustration, he sat at his desk and clicked to the next slide. He did not look at his pupils, but began to absentmindedly flick through a well-thumbed copy of Dante's 'Divine Comedy'- the cover was worn and thin, feebly attached to the spine of the thick classic. The slide now projected on the tall wall behind him began to affect the assembly. He sensed hands shoot into the air.

"Yes...?" he muttered, though the echo in the room provided amplification.

"_Harii Pottaa to Kenja no Ishi_ - Harry Potter and the Sage's Stone!"

With his eyes transfixed by the phrase '_His mouths he opened, and displayed his tusks/ Not a limb had he that was motionless_' (of the fifth canto detailing the many-jawed jackal) Miyagi raised one finger. With his other hand, he gently turned a page. Someone got the hint and raised a hand. Miyagi glanced up and nodded at Soo-san.

"Dante's 'Divine Comedy'?"

Miyagi smiled and perked up his middle finger alongside his index.

The lesson ended soon after with no one able to name a third and so Miyagi had sent them off to investigate at least four tales. When he arrived home, Shinobu was already there, head down over an essay.

"Hey, Shinobu..." Miyagi began, unpacking the take-away he had bought as a treat for them both.

"Hm." Miyagi was impressed Shinobu had replied at all.

"Could you name three stories Cerberus appeared in?"

"Of course," Shinobu mumbled and Miyagi knew he only sounded harsh because he was concentrating on something else- more importantly, something he knew Miyagi loved and which therefore deserved his undivided attention.

"Go on then," Miyagi poked, jestfully. Shinobu looked so exhausted- with his caramel-copper hair mussed up and his eyes half-lidded, his sweater vest crumpled on the floor and the arms of his shirt rolled up roughly- Miyagi decided he needed a break. Shinobu dropped his pen, sighed and spurted:

"Virgil's 'Aenid'; Hesiod's 'Theogony' and John Milton's 'Paradise Lost'." Miyagi blinked and felt a silky balloon billow warmly in his chest. "Well, am I right?" Shinobu barked and his similarity to a dog, just then, made Miyagi smile. He bowed his head and continued to unpack the food.

"Yes," he replied, quietly. Shinobu revised those things _for_ him... to be closer to him...

Invisibly, they were not only nestled in the duvet on their bed- where they loved, laughed, bickered and snored- but also in the crisp, golden pages of masterpieces.


	91. Magic

Drabble No. 91!

Who can name every reference to Peter Pan? Clue: There are four ^.^

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><p><span>Magic<span>

"Ahhhh... Ahhhh..."

"You idiot," Misaki spoke over Akihiko's groans as he rubbed the _Deep Hea__t_ cream into his stiff, muscled back. He was lying face down on their bed, only his black jeans on as Misaki straddled his behind. Truth be told, as well as secretly feeling great sympathy for Akihiko's aches and pains, he was also gloriously aroused by how very attractive his partner-of-fifteen-year's back was. All moonly pale with a defined, dipped spine and broad shoulder-blades scalloped with a manliness that had Misaki quietly gulping once or twice.

"Well, what did you expect me to do? Nothing?" Akihiko muttered, as he arched his right shoulder up, a physical hint to pummel that area further.

"I expected you to use your wealth of accumulated wisdom- which you have gathered over these many years- and realise the foolishness in _attempting to fly_!"

"You were in pain!"

"I had slightly scolded myself from the hot water on the stove. The small yelp was no call for you to fling yourself down twenty steps!"

"I _rushed_. I did not _fling_."

"It looked like a fling. Flings do generally conclude with gravity winning and planting you on your... backside." Even at age thirty-three, Misaki was still too embarrassed to say the word 'ass'. At age forty-three, Akihiko was still practically a Lost Boy. However, the years had brought on a slight stiffness to hinder the characteristic sprightliness.

After a stony silence, Misaki realised he had covered every inch. He sat there for a few seconds, both palms resting on Akihiko's shoulders, before leaning down- gingerly- and planting a small kiss on the back of Akihiko's neck. Calmly, comfortably, Akihiko shuffled round and Misaki managed to remain on top but face-to-face he lost some of his confidence nonetheless.

It was those eyes... they hooked him every time and promised magic.


	92. Hunger

Drabble No. 92!

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><p><span>Hunger<span>

Nowaki's hands were lightly- teasingly- stroking Hiroki's thighs as Hiroki straddled him and kissed down his neck. They were quiet and naked as they gently made love in the inky blueness.

A hunger was pulsing up Hiroki's body, which influenced his impulse: after licking and kissing Nowaki's chest- tongue hot and wet- he bit Nowaki's nipple. Hard.

"_Ah_! Hiro-san!"

Pause.

"Sorry. I don't know why I-" Hiroki began to roll off Nowaki, a warm blush prickling his cheeks, but Nowaki tightened his arm around Hiroki's waist and kept him there.

"Don't be sorry," he chuckled, softly. "I just haven't seen that side of you. I liked it though. Very much." Judging by the distinct pressure on the inside of Hiroki's thigh that did not belong to him, it seemed Nowaki was telling the truth.


	93. Fierce

Drabble No. 93!

Don't Preach/ Cerberus Revised: Not bored at all by your correspondence, it helps me to no end and I always anticipate your opinion/approval/criticism because of your talent, integrity and thoughtfulness. Thank you a thousand, splendid times : )

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><p><span>'Fierce'<span>

"Stop it! I hate it when you do that!"

"Do what?"

"Give a crap! It's a fucking television programme, Nowaki, not Sophie's Choice!"

"I know you've had a hard day at work, that it's been a long week and I want you to relax, to watch what you want to wa-"

"Shut up!"

"Hiro-san-"

"No, seriously, Nowaki. This is ridiculous."

Nowaki's irises swelled in his eyes, gathering clouds in a storm. Hiroki- who had shot up from the sofa and was now glaring down at him- noticed Nowaki's hands clench to fists by his legs. Nowaki looked down, slowly and took a deep breath. The television buzzed in the background, canned laughter from some talkshow or other grating on the mood.

"This _is_ ridiculous," Nowaki spoke, lowly. Hiroki folded his arms and exhaled sharply. "Of course I give a crap."

"And so do I! I care that you've had a long, hard week. Jeeze, you must be knackered. But this selfless-"

"No, see... that's where you're wrong."

"What?"

"This isn't me being selfless or, or... generous. If anything, it's selfish."

"It's selfish letting me pick what to watch _every_ ni-"

"Would you close your mouth for two seconds and stop second guessing me?"

"Don't tell me to shut up!"

"I didn't say shut up-"

"You practically did-"

"No, _you_ actually did when I offered to let you... oh, this is... arrgh!" Nowaki bent over his lap and dropped his head into his hands.

"Infuriating? Yeah, now you get it."

"The situation isn't infuriating, you are."

"Then why do you-"

Nowaki shot up, grabbed Hiroki by his shoulders and kissed him. The shock and force of Nowaki's mouth was almost enough to concuss Hiroki and he struggled, but was ultimately won over by the strength and drive behind the kiss. Plus, Nowaki- especially Nowaki who lifted weights during every break at the hospital, who jogged for two hours every weekend morning without fail, who did one hundred press ups when he was bored- was pretty damn powerful. Eventually, Nowaki's hands slid down Hiroki's arms and he shivered as Nowaki's fingers stroked his wrists, whilst Nowaki's tongue emulated quite another ritual. There was such rhythm, such robust tactic. It was combat. The frustration burnt through Hiroki's lips and roared through his body. He was stunned. It was rare Nowaki was truly this fierce. Of their own accord, Hiroki's hands were gripping the waist of Nowaki's jeans, pulling him closer- Nowaki was only too willing.

It was the first time they had kissed all week.

Nowaki pulled back and let go. They both caught their breath, staring intensely at one another. Then, without warning, Nowaki began to laugh. Hiroki's jaw dropped.

"Why are you laughing? Nowaki? Nowaki!"

"It would just be..." He laughed a little more.

"Nowaki, tell me!"

"It would just be so much easier if you told me _that_ was what you wanted."

"What do I want?" Hiroki asked, folding his arms and jutting his chin to the side. Nowaki's eyebrows raised and he smiled, crossing his arms too. Hiroki couldn't help but admire the sinew and shade of Nowaki's arm muscles, emphasised so attractively by that black t-shirt. "Don't give me that look," Hiroki blagged annoyance. As soon as Nowaki spied the tips of Hiroki's ears burn red, he pounced. As Hiroki went to stomp away, Nowaki wrapped his arms around him- from behind- and whispered down his neck.

"You always get so mean when you want some..."

"I do not!"

Nowaki danced kisses behind Hiroki's ear.

"Come on- you know it's true. What's more- you were right: it has been a long, _hard_ week..." Hiroki's body froze as he felt Nowaki softly kiss down the back of his neck, trace his nose back up and into his hair and _grind_ tortuously slowly into him using his whole body. He couldn't resist falling back a little, testing and revelling in the security and strength of the man behind him.

"I..." Hiroki gasped quietly as Nowaki made love to his ear, his vision swimming as his eyelids slid shut. "I don't mean to be... mean." Nowaki reaffirmed his embrace and chuckled with ease.

"I know," he said, his breath sending quivers down one side of Hiroki's body. "It's just who you are." Hiroki's hands shook a little as he wrapped his arms over Nowaki's.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, uncomfortably.

"You will be," Nowaki muttered back, a wicked smirk on his face as he spun Hiroki round and designed a kiss to drown in.


	94. Win

Drabble No. 94!

My thanks to Cerberus Revised for my mention in 'A Thousand Words' - which I recommend all read : ) I am touched ^.^

* * *

><p><span>'Win'<span>

The mocks had been exhausting. Misaki was having a very hard time rebuilding his momentum to achieve the best grades possible for the actual exams coming up in two weeks. Completely worn out, he had resorted to five days of complete relaxation, which Akihiko had miraculously and kindly respected.

They had cooked together in the kitchen, Misaki teaching Akihiko how to chop herbs properly and when they had sat on the sofa after dinner, watching an evening film, Misaki could smell the pepper and spark of basil on Akihiko's fingers as he stroked Misaki's hair, Misaki lying back on Akihiko's chest.

But rest time was over. If he wasn't careful, Misaki could give up. But thoughts and loyalties to his brother and his lover made him cram on.

In the computer room, nighttime dusted the walls and made working that much more arduous. Misaki was a diurnal man.

He sensed Akihiko at the door before he saw him.

"I'll be in bed soon, I promise."

"You won't accomplish what you want if you're barely awake."

"I know, I know."

Akihiko sighed and padded over to him. Misaki stiffened up a little, anticipating seduction and loathe to have to reprimand Akihiko. But Akihiko wrapped a strong arm around Misaki's shoulders tenderly and spoke calmly, comfortingly.

"You can do it."

_Damn_, Misaki thought with a smile. _Now I have to_ _win_.


	95. Versus

Right! I'm back! Hopefully I can get some good drabbles out there before the pesky non-cyber world distracts me once again!

This is Drabble No. 95!

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><p><span>Versus<span>

He had absolutely no reason to feel pissed off. He had absolutely no reason to be pissed off.

_I have absolutely no reason to be pissed off. I have absolutely no reason to be pissed off-_

"Usagi-san! Dinner!"

Akihiko bit the inside of his lip, sitting on the edge of his bed in the shadows. His legs were crossed, his arms folded, his eyes closed. In fact, his entire body was shutting out the possibility of being-

"Can you come down now, Arita-san is gonna be over soon!"

Akihiko's eyes snapped open.

Arita Yuu. The Illustrator.

Misaki had met him four weeks and two days ago, at the Publishing House, when he was running an errand for Aikawa-san. Akihiko had stayed in the elevator and watched as, four metres away, Misaki laughed so wonderfully and so openly with and for this admittedly handsome man. They had not met any earlier than this because Arita had just joined "the team" (Akihiko inwardly groaned as Aikawa's peppy, sparkling smile accompanied the phrase in his mind). But, seeing as Misaki was now working at the Publishing House, fate had already designed a ripe opportunity.

Black hair, slim, not much taller than Misaki and big blue eyes that lit up each time he listened to whatever Misaki was saying... Arita was...

_There is nothing wrong with Arita._

Akihiko had come home at least three times to find the pair more than happy in one another's company.

If Akihiko put to one side for a second his loathing for the man who had ignited _his_ lover's affections so instantly and intensely, he could appreciate the perfection of this set-up: Author versus Illustrator. But, somehow, the beauty was bitten away by the bitter dagger that provoked Akihiko's heart into anxious palpitations as it hovered nearby inside his chest.

He hugged the man. Misaki actually hugged the man.

It had taken Misaki... well, actually hugging had never really been a problem for Misaki. In fact, it was a notion the young man had encouraged over anything further.

But with such... friendliness. Was that really appropriate? True, Misaki and Arita-san were around the same age and had obviously struck an accord over interests in drawing. But... but...

No. He was being unreasonable.

_I am being unreasonable_, Akihiko thought, darkly. He unfolded his arms and set his palms on the bed beside him, uncrossed his legs and took a few deep breaths. It was totally fine that Misaki had a friend. As far as Akihiko could sense- and some cats would have trouble surpassing Akihiko's senses- Arita-san did not have any romantic interest in Misaki...

So what was the problem?

_What is the problem..._

"Usagi-san! Please! Help me lay the table or something!" Misaki yelled from downstairs, amidst a few tinny sounds from the kitchen.

_I should not... no, I will not ruin this meal for Misaki. It obviously means a great deal to him. He made so much effort ensuring I attend too..._

Then the dagger struck.

It was the sheer enthusiasm Misaki employed that vexed Akihiko so. Never had Misaki shown such eagerness to learn about any of Akihiko's work. About his family, yes. But his work? It seemed to Akihiko that Misaki viewed it as a dirty habit when he was writing yaoi and nothing more than an intelligent utilisation of skill when it was anything other.

The bedroom door flew open.

"What are you doing? Just sitting here in the dark? How old are you, seventeen?"

Akihiko looked up at Misaki and sighed, taking in the short apron over a smart green shirt and some khaki trousers. Bare feet... Akihiko had sucked those toes...

"No, I'm thirty five... and I'm coming now."

Misaki tense shoulders dropped as he heard the weariness in Akihiko's voice. On autopilot, he stepped forward and pushed the rising Akihiko down by the shoulder.

"What's up?" he asked, sternly. Akihiko slid his eyes to the right.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"How do you-"

"What's. Up."

From practise, Akihiko and Misaki had learnt it was far easier to be open about problems as soon as possible. Though it made his stomach clench and flip, Akihiko swallowed his pride and divulged his frustrations fast, leaning back on his hands in order to impress upon Misaki how recent exercise had improved his chest. It worked, for a moment, before Misaki got back to the matter at hand (although Misaki was already trying to work out a way to make Akihiko's chest the matter at hand, quite literally and quite soon).

"You have more interest in Arita's _work_-" Akihiko smeared the word with snideness- "than mine. It hurts me. It hurts my pride and my rather large-"

"Usagi-san-" Misaki warned, anticipating Akihiko's profanity.

"_Ego_," Akihiko continued, sardonically. Akihiko sighed, sat straight and folded his arms once more. "Happy now, _mother_?" he teased.

"So what you're saying is you're jealous? And by the way, the 'mother' comment is perverted."

"N-"

"Jealous?"

"Yes. Very. So jealous it would please me to no end to have Arita watch as I displayed my rather explicit jealousy and my cure for it. Whether or not your dinner is moved away in time is a matter of small importance."

"Behave."

"I am behaving. I am listing any points that may be relevant to you."

They stared at one another for less than two seconds.

"Fine," Misaki exhaled and spun on his heel to make his way out. "I'll call Arita and cancel."

Akihiko blinked, the comment sinking in as Misaki made his way down the stairs. Akihiko promptly followed once he'd confirmed with himself that he hadn't just imagined it.

"Cancel?" Akihiko asked, watching Misaki move to the phone as he stopped midway down the staircase.

"Yes. Cancel."

"But... you've put so much effort-"

"It will upset you more than it's worth. So, I'll call, cancel, display my deep, adoring admiration for your _work_, kiss your ego better and re-arrange before the tantrum has time to break free."

Akihiko was so stumped by Misaki's sauciness and frankness that he turned deaf to the phone-call and instead experienced a whole new wave of love for Misaki.

They had been together for seven years now and Misaki had not changed at all but rather continued to open himself up to Akihiko. Akihiko became the one who Misaki experimented on as he grew older and desired more refined tastes, which was all Akihiko had ever wanted: to have Misaki feel that safe and secure.

He was snapped out of his reverie as Misaki clapped the phone down, looked up at Akihiko, put his hands on his waist and- with a seriousness that aroused more than alerted Akihiko- asked:

"Right, do you want the apron on or off?"


	96. Kill

This is Drabble No. 96!

Dedicated to NekoStrawb - you know who you are ^.^

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><p><span>Kill<span>

They sat under the blue arc of the sky, thin cloaks of cloud obscuring the soggy sun but not diminishing the pleasant heat that accompanied a welcome breeze, which carried a swooping troupe of swallows. Akihiko was- sophisticated as ever- sipping an espresso with ultimate coolness, his black jumper accentuating the distinctly pale skin of his throat and collarbone and his equally black sunglasses framing his ethereally angular face. His silver hair, not styled but naturally glossy, emphasised his refinement.

Misaki was subtly admiring him as he took hearty swigs of his hot chocolate, revelling in how rich it tasted here in France, compared to Japan. Of course, too much blatant admiration would be inadvisable in Akihiko's presence and would risk more than inappropriate sed-eye-ction (a term created by Misaki to describe the way in which Akihiko could seemingly strip you of your clothes just by looking at you with those eyes, such a deep and arresting purple that any painter worth his salt would envy the colour for his palette).

But something was occurring that distracted Misaki from these wonderings.

As couples and- more commonly- women sidled up the cobbled streets, Akihiko's aura seemed to snare them and soon Misaki had caught no fewer than eleven people take off their sunglasses to smile at him and then play coquettishly with their hair as they walked at a much slower pace past them. The breeze played at the ladies' skirts and blew their softly glittering hair as though nature itself was begging for the splendour of Akihiko's procreation, as if Akihiko's 'seed' could refresh the human race and all its ailments. Misaki doubted whether Akihiko would notice his attentions at all, what with all this ego-stroking.

Misaki had to admit it: he was jealous. Why? Because not only were these passers-by ogling his man, his man was welcoming the attention and took advantage of each time to beam politely back.

In their ten years together, Misaki and Akihiko had fallen into a comfortable, but by no means boring, rhythm. That is, if one of them desired something of the other, it was fairly easy to work out the means by which to get it. It was not a selfish way but rather an example of how well the two knew eachother.

Misaki had two options: stretch rather dramatically (which Akihiko loved, as it revealed Misaki's midriff and gave him the opportunity to catch Misaki under his raised arms and caveman-style-drag him to whatever corner would warrant adequate fondling). This would not be his best move, considering they were outdoors...

His other option, a card he rarely played because he did not like to be spoilt, was to grant Akihiko an opportunity to spoil him, which was why- just as a slight, red-headed _boy_ walked past, with a suggestively tight top and firmly toned arms and legs- Misaki cried out, "Oh, I would _kill_ for a pair of those!", in his most enthusiastic tone. He glanced at Akihiko, whose eyes dashed from the red-headed boy to him in a split second.

"A pair of what?" he asked, warmly. Misaki pointed to a pair of grey-and-white striped slip-on shoes in a shop window opposite the small café they were sitting outside of. Akihiko slid his sunglasses halfway down his nose and appraised the mentioned items, the action causing a pair of French girls nearby to simultaneously pout and smile in his direction with those alluring red lips, swinging those tanned, slender legs under the table.

Akihiko had already taken his wallet out of the back-pocket of his designer jeans and handed it to Misaki.

"You know the code, right?"

"Mmhmm," Misaki replied, in a satisfied manner. "Thank you." A decade ago, Misaki would have been embarrassed to allow Akihiko to gift him like this but considering the amount of attention Akihiko had received and reciprocated over the last four days, Misaki did feel oddly entitled. Misaki was making his own money now and did not rely on Akihiko for funds, however the action proved something... Akihiko did not share his money carelessly.

He got up and made his way over to the store, looking behind him nonchalantly, pretending to observe the turret of a nearby house, when in actual fact he was checking to see that Akihiko's eyes were more accurately trained on _his_ behind... which they were, though with admirably casual grace.

Misaki smiled.

A couple of minutes later, Misaki returned with his pair of shoes, dropped the bag by his feet, leaned over and whispered something so tantalisingly arousing that Akihiko's hand actually clenched on his own knee. Once all of the predators caught sight of this act, they seemed to relax their pushed out chests and found, rather disappointedly, something else of interest that was not so conspicuously claimed.


	97. Bite

This is Drabble No. 97!

* * *

><p><span>Bite<span>

Miyagi held up a black shirt in one hand and a white one in the other.

"Which one?" he asked Shinobu. Shinobu turned around from the mirror where he had been knotting his tie and pointed to the black one.

Miyagi slipped it on and buttoned it up with impressive speed, something Shinobu had admired in an opposite fashion on many occasions.

"Good?" Miyagi asked. Shinobu tilted his head to the side and then shook his head. Miyagi sighed, slipped off the black shirt and replaced it with the white. "Now?"

Shinobu pursed his lips in a contemplative manner, squinted his eyes a little...

And then shook his head again.

Miyagi's shoulders dropped as he took off the white shirt and looked into his closet at the same time.

"I don't think I have anything else I could wear... none of the others are ironed from this week..." he muttered.

"I like this one," Shinobu said softly. Miyagi turned his head, expecting to see Shinobu on the other side of the bed, but he was in front of him.

"Which o-" Shinobu interrupted Miyagi with a bite and lick to his pec. "Ah! Shinobu!"

Needless to say they were late for the dinner reservation.


	98. Territories

This is Drabble No. 98!

A/N: I've written quite frequently of a more mature Misaki, one who does not so easily flinch from Akihiko's advances and in fact initiates some affection. This is in no way a move to "improve" the original work AT ALL, more experimentation of how to write characterisation and- zooming couples on around a decade- I've forced myself to evolve them to the best of my abilities. Hopefully it's worked, although it does take quite a bit of editing and speaking aloud to myself! Annnnyway, this drabble is my reason for the pivot in Misaki's character. It's a multi-parter. I hope you enjoy ^.^

* * *

><p><span>Territories- Part One<span>

Misaki rolled one shoulder back as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, groaning a little to himself and keeping his eyes closed in an attempt to savour the last dregs of a glorious sleep. Akihiko had returned home quite late last night, after a rare visit to the Publishing House to write, claiming he needed to soak up the atmosphere of an office building for his new novel. Exhausted, he'd zombie-walked into the apartment, not bothering to switch on the light as he let his coat crumple onto the floor, dragging himself up the stairs before loosening his tie and clambering into bed next to an almost-asleep Misaki.

Sympathetic, Misaki had turned over and helped Akihiko out of his tie, shirt, shoes, socks and trousers, leaving his boxers on as he made sure Akihiko was aptly cocooned in blankets. As it was winter it was pretty chilly and although the house-heating worked, the comfort of another body was something even prudish Misaki could not deny. In all honesty, Misaki had been awaiting Akihiko, yearning for that unique warmth the man kept toastily about him. They'd fallen asleep snuggled close, as the snow padded, muffled, against the large windows downstairs.

It was morning now and Akihiko was gone from the room, doubtless to set on writing once more. About a week beforehand, Misaki had cottoned on to the increase in Akihiko's daily caffeine intake, the frequency of his deep naps and his growing appetite for both food and other oral rituals (toothbrush and toothpaste participating in two activities). As such, Misaki had been similarly knackered, especially when he laboured hard four days a week as a temp in an insurance company for work experience, now he'd achieved his Economics degree.

Reluctantly, Misaki let his eyelids crack open gradually, as he heard soft laughter from downstairs. Confused, he listened hard as he pulled on a sweater and a pair of shorts from the floor, already wearing a t-shirt and boxers. Once the laughter reached a familiar pitch, verging on fan-girl giggle, Misaki sighed and muttered to himself,

"Aikawa-san..."

He tried to remember if they had any of the rose tea she so liked as he creaked out of the bedroom and was momentarily blinded by the white blare of a new winter's day. His calves felt a draught as he plonked down the stairs to a smiling Akihiko and his bubbly editor.

"Sleep well?" Akihiko asked, brightly, watching Misaki make his way to the kitchen. He was wearing his smartest waist-coat suit, with a new sage-green tie.

"Mmm," Misaki replied, pursing his lips to lock in a satisfied smile- he didn't want to give Aikawa or Akihiko an opportunity to note upon anything remotely homoerotic. For this same reason, he shared no eye contact with Akihiko, for fear of unleashing the beast. He needed coffee and he needed food before any of that business.

"Morning, Misaki-kun!" Aikawa waved.

"Morning," Misaki smiled, politely, getting the kettle and the coffee machine ready.

"So, anyway," Aikawa chattered on with Akihiko, "I gave him a call! He's perfect for Tamaki, isn't he? I mean personality-wise, you know, to base him on. Not for the film, if there is one... he's not an actor... works in advertising, but behind the desk. Actually, that's how you two met, isn't it?"

Akihiko let out a breathy laugh.

"Ahh, yes. Our relationship flourished and floundered with him behind a desk and me behind him." His tone and Aikawa's naughty little chuckle sparked Misaki's interest and he let the kettle fall into the sink. He looked up at the two of them as the conversation continued, though they paid no attention to him- Akihiko had learnt to let Misaki be in the mornings and Aikawa seemed too distracted with her glee.

"Oooh, it's perfect! Do you think you two will manage to get past all the... history?"

"History? It lasted a month. I think we can be grown-ups about it all, we parted ways quite acceptingly. We've thrown each other a few emails over the years, just small talk, but really I'm quite excited to see him- he's a great character." There was a tightness in Akihiko's voice despite the audible smile.

Misaki- simultaneously preparing the coffee-maker- debated with himself whether to ask who this great character was as he felt a pinch under his heart, an emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint. If there was a map of emotions, Misaki's travels would be shown within a familiar region of known locations but as he'd developed a relationship with Akihiko, nameless territories popped into existence, as suddenly as this, quite often. After a deep breath, Misaki decided against interrogation and opted for a less obvious tactic: calmly, he walked through the living room and to the back-room under the stairs, with apparent purpose. Once inside the room, with the door closed, his logic told him Akihiko would be more open with information; instinct told him Akihiko was holding back with Misaki's presence.

He was right.

"Best shag of my life, really," he heard Akihiko say in a hushed tone, and watched him scratch the back of his head, smiling, then actually blush. The rest of the conversation disappeared from Misaki's universe.

Misaki was stunned. Shocked.

_Best...?_

Not only was Akihiko displaying a remarkably rare trait of explicit happiness with someone other than Misaki, he was mixing it with a physical habit (touching his hair) that usually depicted embarrassment, something Misaki only saw when Akihiko was receiving cheers and praise from female fans. When this occurred- for Akihiko only did this on such occasions- Misaki had assumed it had all been part of his act. But now? Was he acting for Aikawa? Why?

As for the blushing... Misaki had never seen that. Not once. Reveals of such weakness or flattery had only ever accumulated in Akihiko covering his smile with his hand or his eyes transforming into little fireworks displays.

Then came Akihiko's words. _Best shag of my life_... The words echoed in Misaki's mind as he tried to let the phrase sink in. The word 'best' lost its definition for a while as Misaki found himself denying it. The statement contradicted Akihiko's whole philosophy on his supposed love for Misaki; wasn't Misaki supposed to be his best _because_ of his love? Wasn't Misaki the apogee?

The pinch grew harder as Misaki slid down the door and sat down. He bit the inside of his lower lip and stared at the floor, nose twinging. His dissection of the situation furthered, cutting deeper and deeper.

It was utterly uncharacteristic of Akihiko to be so absent-minded in Misaki's company as to say something to potentially harmful, even with him out of the room. Far away and in confidence, perhaps, if Akihiko had a really big problem but this was rarer still as Akihiko was a definitively private man. And with the risk of Misaki hearing? Misaki realised how safe he'd felt with Akihiko not hurting him, not being so careless. So did Akihiko mean for him to hear the comment? Was it a sign that Akihiko was tired of Misaki's protests and sexual shyness? Was it more than that? They'd been together for six years now and Misaki had prided himself on improving, little by little, becoming more confident...

Evidently, it wasn't enough.

His eyes grew sore as he felt the first tear kiss his cheek, a message of consolation from his own body.

The tears fell freely as Misaki studied their physical love life recently. Last night was proof enough of Misaki's comfort with Akihiko, that he was willing to undress him and sleep so purposefully near him. Misaki _wanted_ that and it was certainly an improvement.

_Okay_, Misaki thought, trying to be positive, _so what else?_

When he or Akihiko came home, Misaki at least gave the man a peck on the cheek, sometimes even lingering to hint at a kiss on the mouth. Misaki's insides melted as he recalled the most recent of these warm welcome-home kisses, no tongue, just 'hello' in the tenderest way.

They lay together on the sofa watching TV...

_Wait_, Misaki thought, _that only lasts about two minutes before I move or make an excuse for Akihiko to_. His thoughts paused for a moment before, _I hold him close... when we... make love, I hold his arms, I don't push him away. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, around his neck_- Misaki's thoughts stopped momentarily and he turned so red he could have added himself to a salad as a tomato.

It wasn't as though their sex life was dull, Akihiko saw to that. The most obvious conclusion was that Misaki didn't offer enough in that way, that he simply let Akihiko do what he would...

But always to a no.

Memories of past sexual encounters zipped through his mind.

_I've never said yes. It's always been no_. Even Misaki found this strange.

A beeping met his ears and it took him half a minute to realise it was the coffee machine. Numb, he pushed himself up, pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, wiped the tears away and made his way back into the kitchen, passing Akihiko without looking at him. His eyes were focused entirely on the red blinking light of the machine. Though almost deaf, he heard Aikawa pipe,

"So are you sure today is okay?"

"Of course," Akihiko replied. Then he turned round on the sofa and stretched his neck to ask Misaki, "You don't mind if Aikawa and another join us for lunch today, do you? Is there enough food?"

"Err," Misaki answered, on auto-pilot, as he poured himself some coffee, "Aikawa's bringing a date?" _Does he or does he not know I heard what he said?_

"Oh, no!" Aikawa laughed, good-heartedly. "I wish! He doesn't bat for my team, unfortunately."

"He's gay?" Misaki asked, quietly, as he added one sugar to his cup.

"Yup, Akihiko saw to-"

"Aikawa," Akihiko barked. His voice was cold and Misaki looked up in time to see Aikawa's smile fall and a sort of sadness touch her eyes as she looked up at Misaki.

"Sorry." She sounded deeply apologetic and regretful, enough so that Misaki could imagine the stony look on Akihiko's face without seeing. "Must learn to hold my tongue. I just... I get over-ex..." She didn't finish her sentence, and joined her hands together in her lap then looked down at her fidgeting fingers. There was an awkward silence that Misaki could not decipher fully, his brain whirring with the overload of yet another telling comment.

_Akihiko saw to what?_

Akihiko, sensing the discomfort, turned around and gave Misaki a friendly smile.

"They'll be round at three, if that's okay? Aikawa, I'll see you later." Akihiko kept his eyes trained on Misaki as he sipped his coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter. Aikawa observed the pair before standing, collecting a manuscript from the table and leaving the apartment.

Silence.

Misaki finished his coffee and put the cup in the sink before steadily moving to the fridge. He opened the door so it obscured any view of the living-room and started taking ingredients from the cool shelves. He predicted Akihiko's strong arms around him before Akihiko even thought it. Akihiko held him tight from behind.

"Don't pay any attention to Aikawa-" _You want to hide whatever this is from me? _Misaki thought. _You want to cover it up__?_ "Are you sure you're okay to cook for four?"

"It won't be much harder," Misaki muttered, picking up two leeks from the vegetable drawer in the fridge. "But you'll need to get off if you want lunch ready in two hours." Something sank in Misaki as he realised it was instances like this that had probably led to Akihiko's resentment of him. Surprisingly, Akihiko dropped his arms and Misaki turned around to continue but was halted by a dreamlike kiss, so soft Misaki's heart slowed down and as Akihiko's palms lightly touched his cheeks, his stomach swooped like a bird in flight. All the confusion settled in a pile at the back of Misaki's mind and as Akihiko pulled back, Misaki found he didn't care what was going on, not right that second. There was no way he was going to let a few unexplained revelations ruin a perfectly good opportunity to set about improving his relationship with Akihiko, who so obviously had telepathically worked out Misaki's stress. Misaki didn't know whether Akihiko was also following the thought that these were the only two peaceful hours left before a landmark argument crashed into their relationship.

Either way, Misaki looked intensely into Akihiko's eyes- which Akihiko reciprocated- before pressing the leeks against Akihiko's chest and saying, gently,

"Chop these."


	99. Slipped

This is Drabble No. 99!

A/N: I've written quite frequently of a more mature Misaki, one who does not so easily flinch from Akihiko's advances and in fact initiates some affection. This is in no way a move to "improve" the original work AT ALL, more experimentation of how to write characterisation and- zooming couples on around a decade- I've forced myself to evolve them to the best of my abilities. Hopefully it's worked, although it does take quite a bit of editing and speaking aloud to myself! Annnnyway, this drabble is my reason for the pivot in Misaki's character. It's a multi-parter. I hope you enjoy ^.^

Thank you for all the faves and the lovely reviews, really encouraging and I promise to reply to every one as soon as I can ^^

EDIT: FanFiction cut off some of the end of this when I first published this, so there's more at the end now, just so you know :)

* * *

><p><span>Territories- Part Two<span>  
><span>Slipped<span>

Even the air seemed to sigh with anxiety as Misaki prepared lunch, although he was already full with foreboding. He had to complete each task steadily, relegating very simple jobs to Akihiko whenever he felt a faintness spin in his head. Akihiko complied fair-naturedly, aware of Misaki's tension and debating with himself whether he should clarify the nature of their soon-to-be dinner guest or let Misaki lead the situation.

Halfway through lunch preparations, Misaki was forced to breathe shallowly through his mouth as his palms began to sweat and his heart began to shiver.

_Is this the end of us? Is it my fault?_

Akihiko's hand stopped Misaki's as he went to slice the chicken breast.

"You're shaking. Leave that to me."

Misaki let him, walking out of the kitchen and sitting down on the sofa. Akihiko didn't follow him.

It felt like he'd woken up on an alien planet. Akihiko wasn't acting like his normal self at all- there was none of the over-compensating, just this mature, level-headed man. Was this a lesson?

Without a word to Akihiko, Misaki left the living room and went upstairs. Out of the corner of his vision he was aware of Akihiko continuing to do as many simple tasks as possible in the kitchen.

_He's not even watching me leave…_ This thought caught in his throat like a huge wad of chewing gum and he choked a little as he locked himself in the bathroom. He felt sick.

He gasped as he saw himself in the mirror on the wall opposite the door he was leaning against and bit his lower lip till it was sore and a mixture of tears came to his eyes.

"But I love you…" he whimpered softly to himself, hanging his head as his palms slipped off the cold door handle. "Gah!" He reprimanded himself immediately, rubbing the tears from his eyes and storming to the sink to wash his face. He hung onto the edges of the basin and he took calming breaths. "I'm assuming too much. I have to be logical."

Memories of Akihiko's sleeping breaths, the silkiness of them on the back of Misaki's neck or in his hair, swam through his body and he tingled. He imagined a life without Akihiko's self-importance, without his arrogance… without the arrogance that hid the multitude of insecurities that Misaki _loved _to blanket or nurture away.

With cooking.

With support when it came to writing.

With cleaning the house…

_He could pay for those things easily_, said a voice in his head. Misaki swallowed and sagged down onto the floor, leaning against the bathtub.

_If it's sex I need to improve on_, Misaki thought, _then he could just… he does say. He has commented on it plenty of times._

He heard action downstairs and felt his body empty, felt frail. Before he could compose himself, he heard high-heels coming up the stairs and then there was a knock on the door.

"Err, sorry, I'm just-"

"It's me, Misaki. Aikawa. Can I just have a word?"

Misaki pulled himself up and opened the door a crack. Aikawa's apologetic face met his eyes instantly.

"I'm sorry about my… about what I said. I hope you're not fretting too much; Usami-sensei and Mori-san, it was nothing! A fling!"

_Mori-san…_

"Yes, it's good to see you after so long!" Akihiko's voice glided cheerfully up the stairs and Misaki opened the bathroom door wider so he could look over the landing and watch as Akihiko embraced a man who came up to Akihiko's shoulder and had brown hair cropped quite short. The man was wearing a blue suit and when the embrace parted, Misaki could see a small, sharp nose on a pixie-like face, the pointiness emphasised by a pair of doe-like eyes.

Misaki's lips parted and he froze...

Before changing his gear into hyperactivity.

He smiled at Aikawa, then sped past her and blasted down the stairs with an explosion of enthusiasm. Mori turned round and made to speak before Misaki bowed respectfully and cried,

"Welcome to the Usami household! My name is Takahashi Misaki!" He stood up and beamed at Mori.

"A-A pleasure to meet you, I'm Obatsu Mori," Mori declared, a little disconcerted, though smiling nonetheless. "Sorry for imposing."

"Not at all, you've made lunch much easier- now there won't be any leftovers or waste!" Misaki sang out, reaching out to take Mori's coat. Mori handed it to him gratefully then turned to Akihiko.

"Where did you hire him from?" he muttered, without malice. Akihiko opened his mouth to make clear who Misaki was, before he was interrupted.

"I'm the little brother of a close friend of Usami-sensei's." Misaki noticed the very high quality of the silk-lined blue jacket and a thought bulleted into his head that Mori was, quite literally, better suited to Akihiko. "I'm staying here whilst I find myself a stable job and Usami-sensei has been kind enough to let me lodge here throughout University." Misaki span around from the coat-stand and gestured to the sofa. "If you'll be kind enough to sit down, I'll bring you a drink. Beer? Water? Wine?"

"Err, a beer would be lovely," Mori smiled, sitting down. Frowning a little, Akihiko sat opposite him and Aikawa, who was now coming down the stairs, sat next to Mori as Misaki fled to the kitchen to make a tray. Aikawa managed to strike up a decent conversation, which gave Misaki an excuse to serve the drinks- assuming a sparkling water with lime for Akihiko and a glass of white wine for Aikawa- then busy himself with cooking.

Half an hour later, it was all laid out on the dining table: chicken seasoned with lemon and ginger; rosemary steamed white rice; steamed pak choy and leeks; sliced tomatoes fried in balsamic vinegar; pickled beetroot and lime; beef with a cinnamon-sugar crust; curried spinach and spring onions; udon noodles and a basic lettuce salad and diced raw salmon.

Misaki sat opposite Mori, Akihiko opposite Aikawa.

"Wow, Misaki-san, this looks divine! What a feast," Mori complimented, putting his hands together before saying, "Itadakimasu!"

"Thank you, Misaki," Akihiko said, voice hemmed with velvet. It sounded so deliberately cordial to Misaki that he looked up in time to see an adoring glint in Akihiko's eyes. Happiness welled up inside him before it was polluted by doubt. He looked away.

"Please, help yourselves to as much or as little as you would like," he said, pleasantly as he could. After a couple of moments, Mori began to speak.

"So, I hear you're working on a new novel, Akihiko? How can I possible be of service?"

"As a character study, solely."

"Really? Ah, I'm flattered! I didn't know you wrote stories about scrawny little advertisement bugs like me."

"Not at all, Tamaki- who shall be influenced by you, by your permission- is a gentle, up-and-coming model who realises the company he has joined is actually a cover-up for an underground, international and political corporation that is responsible for a plenitude of assassinations, the next target being the politician he happens to be dating."

"Doesn't it sound exciting!" Aikawa exclaimed, before affectionately placing a particularly juicy tomato slice onto Misaki's plate and muttering, "I know they're your favourite," with a sweet grin. But Misaki missed the gesture, too preoccupied with his thoughts.

_A model, huh? _ He looked at Mori and found himself admiring the slightness of his body, his slender neck and careful fingers, found himself wishing he was less soft around the edges.

"It does sound great! Whatever inspired you to think of me, though?"

"Ah, the open gentleness and the secret devil," Akihiko joked. Everyone, save for Misaki, laughed politely. This was blatant flirting.

"The opposite of you..." Misaki muttered out-loud, without thinking. _Opposites attract_...

"Sorry, Misaki?" Mori asked.

"U-Uh, nothing. Pardon me for interrupting."

"So, Akihiko, how can I be of service?" The idea of Mori saying this in a more erotic setting with Akihiko made the tips of Misaki's ears burn red and he began to eat faster, to eat the thoughts away.

"An interview would be great. It would be great to spend time with you." Misaki actually stared, open-mouthed, at Akihiko, but only for a couple of seconds. It wasn't like him to act so enthusiastically about other people.

"And with you! I thought I'd never see you again," Mori replied, brightly.

_You've got to be kidding me. Should I have just served a bed and some pillows for lunch?_

"Memories simply didn't suffice," Akihiko said, in a gentleman-like manner.

"Alright, that's it!" Misaki shot up, eyes on his plate as he spoke. "I cook for you, I clean for you, when you're struggling with writing, I try to distract you then encourage you. If you're hurt I nurse you. I know I'm defensive and... and shy-" Misaki's breathing was getting fast and uneven- "but I've never left you. Ever. Never of my own volition. I don't know why you're saying the things you are, or behaving like this, but if you want me gone, just-"

"I never want you to go," Akihiko said plainly, with just a hint of annoyance.

Mori and Aikawa blinked at the couple and then at one another. Then,

"Err, thank you so much for such a feast, Misaki. It was such a gift. I'm deeply sorry if I've offended you in any way, I'm not conscious of having done so and I hope you can forgive me. Thank you for welcoming me. I think I should go." Mori stood up. Aikawa stood up too and after a series of gestures to one another, they made their way towards the door.

"I'll call you later, Akihiko," Aikawa called, before closing the door behind both of them and leaving pretty swiftly.


	100. Deep

This is Drabble No. 100! Ooh, 100... hopefully this will be a worthy mark ^^

A/N: I've written quite frequently of a more mature Misaki, one who does not so easily flinch from Akihiko's advances and in fact initiates some affection. This is in no way a move to "improve" the original work AT ALL, more experimentation of how to write characterisation and- zooming couples on around a decade- I've forced myself to evolve them to the best of my abilities. Hopefully it's worked, although it does take quite a bit of editing and speaking aloud to myself! Annnnyway, this drabble is my reason for the pivot in Misaki's character. It's a multi-parter. I hope you enjoy ^.^

Thank you for all the faves and the lovely reviews, really encouraging and I promise to reply to every one as soon as I can ^^

* * *

><p>Territories- Part Three<br>Deep

It was set out like this. The light streamed in, white, over a scene of discontent. Misaki was still standing, palms on the table, as he stared down at Akihiko, who himself was sitting straight in his chair and looking ahead.

Misaki knew he'd embarrassed Akihiko, that he had perhaps thrown the situation way out of proportion. But he also knew something more was afoot, something Akihiko was not mentioning.

Akihiko knew Misaki was jealous, he was displaying all the usual symptoms, and whilst he didn't like having Misaki upset, it was satisfying to see some sort of affirming emotion from him.

"What's going on?" Misaki asked, voice surrendering to the smallest of warbles as he tried to hold back worried tears.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie!"

"Nothing is going on that shouldn't be."

"You were flirting with that man like I wasn't even here! Like I wasn't your... like we weren't..."

"I was acting precisely how you desired: like you were simply the little brother of a close friend of mine." Misaki hated how calmly Akihiko was behaving in the face of his exclamations.

"Isn't that what you want?"

"Where have you plucked that preposterous idea from?"

"From your behaviour! From everything you've said today! I should have just left you and Mori to your own devices-"

"That deeply offends me, Misaki," Akihiko bit out, glaring up at him. "Have you no faith in me?"

"You spoke about sleeping with the guy!" Misaki blurted out, before flinching back. This was new for them. This level of conversation, where it was headed.

"When-"

"This morning!"

Akihiko sighed and looked down into his lap, seemingly resigned, like he had been awaiting this.

"So you heard?"

"Of course I heard!" Misaki cried, indignantly. "I live here too, you know!"

"You shouldn't eavesdrop-"

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"When you have absolute freedom to ask me any question any time."

This stumped Misaki for a second.

"Fine. How do you know that guy?"

"I met Mori at an advertising agency when I first began to write professionally. I was looking for someone to design a front cover. He was a desk-man."

"Did you..." Misaki pursed his lips, unable to continue. Akihiko rolled his eyes and folded his arms, not childishly, but in fact like Misaki was a child he had to suffer.

"Yes. We slept together. We had a light-hearted relationship for about a month before we parted ways."

"That wasn't how you made it sound this morning."

"How did I make it sound this morning?"

"Best! You said best!"

Akihiko folded his arms and lay them on the table.

"I'm assuming you're referring to the comment 'best shag of my life'?" Misaki winced. "If you'd had the decency to eavesdrop further, you would have heard me continue to say 'up until then'. It was no slight on you."

Misaki's shoulders slumped. But something was souring inside him. It wasn't the 'best' comment that hurt him... it was the thought of Akihiko with anyone else so closely, when Misaki had only ever been with Akihiko. He felt judged, compared... and found wanting.

"Why're you even with me if you have guys like him to choose from?"

"You're seriously asking me that question? Have you not been listening to me for the past six years?" Akihiko sighed again. "Quite frankly, Misaki... I'm... I don't know what to do any more. Whilst you were eighteen and I was introducing you to..." He seemed to struggle for a word, "a relationship, I was understanding about your difficulties with intimacy and self-confidence. But eventually... it's come to hurt me. You're twenty-four, Misaki, I'm thirty-four-"

"Are you dissatisfied?"

Akihiko blinked several times and tilted his head to the side before nodding it.

"Yes, in a way I am. Not with you, Misaki. I'll say it again: I love you. Love. But I don't know how seriously to take your constant denial. No, you've never left me. But, really, why? Is it because you'd feel guilty to leave me or because you genuinely like being with me? I'd like to think I know that about you, that I can comprehend behind your million masks. But... it's _always_ such a struggle."

Misaki fell into his chair.

"I thought I was better..."

"Misaki, I'm not asking you to change!" Akihiko laughed, kindly. "I just... maybe you should re-evaluate what you think is love. If you can confess to a mangaka in sixty seconds but never to me in six years-"

"That was years ago! Why do I-"

"You have also professed love to a baker, Aikawa and two street musicians since then."

"Not _real _love! Why do I have to say it to you? I do it!"

"I know, I do know that. I really appreciate it, please understand this isn't me complaining. I'm just worried for you. And yes, occasionally, I've found myself saying things to other people to provoke you, to... reassure myself!" Akihiko reached over and lifted up one of Misaki's hands and held it lovingly. "It's wrong of me. But-"

"What about what Aikawa said... did you... had Mori ever..." Misaki felt ashamed.

"Yes, I was Mori's first."

Misaki took his hand away, stood up and walked to the kitchen counter. He felt empty all over again.

"Of course I've slept with other people, Misaki." Akihiko's tone had turned hard again. "I am ten years older than you. Besides," he continued with a smirk, "you can't really have thought I was a novice when I first met you-"

"So I was just another first? Is that what you did? Was that your thing?"

Akihiko licked his lips, a subtle show that his patience was wearing thin.

"No."

"Don't lie! The second time we met, you made it your mission to manipulate me."

"You'd offended me."

"Well, you're offending me now! After all I do-"

"With love and respect, Misaki, I don't want you... I don't want you to do those things! I love your food, it comforts me, but I want you to concentrate on your career, on whatever interests you. I want you to be able to welcome me like you welcome other people. I seem to make you so uncomfortable, so conflicted. You ask me questions like 'was I just another first', like you expect that cruelty and coldness from me. When have I ever been cold towards you? I admit freely my temper towards others is far from animate, but you? How little do you know me, how futile have these years been if all you think is that I'm some lecherous man on a sexual odyssey, with you as one of my ports! If anything, you're my boarding call. The final." Akihiko shot up from his chair then, making Misaki jump and clutch his arms. "It feels... its feels like every kiss, every hug, is just a matter of occasion, like... rent-pay! Like you feel you have to because I _let_ you live here. _We_ live here, Misaki. You're not a student anymore and even then, services like cooking and cleaning weren't applied to you by me. You took it upon yourself. I admire it but it... it demeans our relationship."

_I've hurt him. I've hurt him so much... how did that happen__?_

"I do it to show I care!"

"I've told you, I understand that. It warms me to see the pride you take in this place and the responsibilities you take on for me. But drop it all, Misaki. Drop it all and... and just take me on. If you want. If you don't, please, _please_ don't wait for me to ask you to go, because I never will. You owe me _nothing_. Dispose of all that guilt and all those feelings of being indebted to me. One of the reasons I love you is because you're so pure, so morally composed. Yet you complicate us. I've noticed habits you've picked up and they make me very happy... but you should want to do them. I can't force you any more. When you say 'no', I have to take it at face value."

This was a dud comment.

"I've said 'no' all eight times we've done it this week," Misaki interjected, bovinely.

"You said 'yes' each time, with your body. But honestly, I could have been any powerful man, I think it would have appealed to you. And I'm not implying you're vain. And yes, I like sex, Misaki, I like making love. I love it. Because despite my profession, I can never find the right words to... to profess to you..." Akihiko sank back down into his chair.

_He thinks he could be anyone...? He really thinks that?_

"Surely, you know I... I love you?" Akihiko looked up at Misaki hopefully. "Of course I love you!" Akihiko stood up.

"Then show it! Mean it!"

"I do show it! Of course I mean it!"

"Argh..." Akihiko turned around.

"What do you want me to do?"

"If you don't know, forget it." Akihiko's words stung Misaki.

He took a deep breath and began to think hard. He felt fantastic relief at knowing Akihiko didn't want rid of him. Now, it was a matter of convincing Akihiko he genuinely loved him? His brain kept telling him to do something physical, but he was stubborn against it.

_But why?_ he asked himself. _Why?_

Looking back over all the years, it hit him.

_Because I'll make a mistake and he'll hate it. It's safer for me to act the way I do because he seems to like it... if I were to act any different, perhaps he'd hate it so much he'd- _A voice in his head interrupted.

_Of course he'll want something physical. When has he ever had the combination of love and physical affection?_

Misaki had been so loved in his childhood, by his parents and his brother. Akihiko had lost his mother and drowned in loneliness, if Misaki were to take that journal and stories of Akihiko's past as accounts.

Misaki couldn't deny it any more: sex was not just a physical act for Akihiko. He was a deeply sexual being, but in the least lecherous way. Was what he was encountering- Akihiko trying to make Misaki jealous, Akihiko allowing a past sexual partner over- actually just a strop? No... it cut deeper than that. But had this all been orchestrated to make Misaki... open up?

_That phrase sounds wrong_, Misaki thought. He felt an infuriating anti-climax.

"You. Bastard," Misaki seethed. Akihiko turned round, having walked around the sofa. "You had me worried sick! And all because you're just horny for me to be one of your damn BL characters?"

"No-"

"I only ever want your damn happiness, you... demon! Because. I. Love. You. Okay?"

"I-"

Misaki strode, took two running steps, jumped onto the back of the sofa and propelled himself forward.

Everything went into slow motion for a second.

_It may seem silly to me, but this will make Akihiko happy. Which is all I want. So this is for him. All for him._

He leapt onto Akihiko, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist.

Then he kissed the wounded writer, deeply, hands clutching onto his hair as he squeezed his whole body around him.

Akihiko stumbled, held tightly onto Misaki and then fell back onto the other sofa, gulping down the kisses Misaki offered. His hands were holding so tightly onto the back of Misaki's jumper, Misaki wouldn't have been surprised if it had ripped. But Misaki couldn't have cared less. He had thrown himself on Akihiko and in doing so left something behind him. Because he had to. He had to let go of the past and judging by present affairs, the future was highly delightful. In danger of killing Akihiko with shock, Misaki- hungry- kissed him deeper and deeper. It felt like there was a drum kit inside of him, played madly by his heart. He transformed all of his frustration into lust, which wasn't hard when you had an unbelievably attractive author trapped between your thighs. One that loved _you_. His hips were gyrating of their own accord now, Akihiko responding with gruff breaths.

_Wow, this feels... so good... So good..._

As if asking whether it was okay to take a little control, Akihiko began to suck lightly, wetly, on Misaki's lower lip, so sweetly Misaki's lip could have been nectar.

Akihiko was barely breathing, one hand gliding up to stroke across Misaki's jaw. Misaki emitted a small, soft sound of satisfaction as he felt Akihiko stiffen in his lap. Then, surprisingly, Akihiko pulled back from the kisses.

"Please... please don't do this just because-" he breathed. Misaki took a shuddering breath, scared himself, but shook his head and interrupted.

"I'm doing this..." Then he laughed quietly as a naughty thought skipped into his mind. In the past, such thoughts had been hastily hurried away. _To hell with that_, Misaki thought. "I'm doing you..." Misaki leaned forward, hesitated, then kissed behind Akihiko's ear and pushed his hips forward. Akihiko's forehead fell onto Misaki's shoulder. "Because your body's answering yes to all..." Misaki's hands trailed down the front of Akihiko's waistcoat and he began to undo the buttons. Akihiko's chest raised with a deep inhalation. "Of my questions." Akihiko's nose stroked up Misaki's throat as Misaki slipped the waistcoat off and hugged around Akihiko's shoulders. He loved how broad and strong they were. "I love you," he whispered, terrified Akihiko wouldn't believe him.

"Ahh..." Akihiko breathed, teeth gently grazing under Misaki's jaw. "I did hope so. But really-" Akihiko's hand ventured under Misaki's top, fingers cold as they traced up his spine- "how could you not?"


	101. Fingers

This is Drabble No. 101!

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><p><span>Fingers<span>

Schubert's 'Swan Song' was playing on the radio, the gentle and sorrow-sweet piano music sending Hiroki into a trance-like state as he chopped leeks on a board in the kitchen. His breathing became calmer than it had been half an hour before, when he had just arrived home after a hectic day at the University.

Watching his fingers as they worked the knife to dice tomatoes, too, he found himself at odds with them.

"I wish my fingers were more slender," he thought out-loud.

"What, these fingers?"

Hiroki gasped and dropped the knife as Nowaki- appearing from nowhere- grasped Hiroki's hand and brought it to his lips, whereupon he softly sucked the index and middle fingers into his warm mouth. He had to bend his back considerably to reach. Hiroki stared, open-mouthed, unable to hold back a small groan as Nowaki's tongue slid around them, licking off the sweet tomato juice, and the ridges of his teeth grazed along the sensitive sides of Hiroki's fingers. His stomach swooped and clenched.

"I didn't know you were home," he said, breathlessly. Nowaki released Hiroki's fingers- which remained hovering in mid-air- and stood up straight, popping a small, very red tomato into his mouth from the kitchen counter. Hiroki found the action surprisingly erotic.

"I think your fingers are delightful, Hiro-san," Nowaki countered, in a dark and velvety voice. Hiroki inhaled to reprimand him, but Nowaki moved swiftly, catching Hiroki's lips with his own. Utterly seduced by this spontaneity and eager to expel the day's frustrations as well as make love to his gorgeous partner, Hiroki's hands leapt to clutch Nowaki's hair, which felt cool as a breeze.

Nowaki sighed in pleasure as Hiroki's wet fingers traced around his ear and- lost in the warmth and feel of the man he loved- he embraced Hiroki roughly around the waist and tightly to himself.

"Ah, Nowaki, I can't breathe!"

"Are you saying I make you breathless?" Nowaki asked, slyly, right by Hiroki's ticklish left ear. He loosened his grip all the same.

"No, baka, I'm saying if you hold me that tight I'll die!"

"Of pleasure," Nowaki growled, and swept Hiroki off his feet, ignoring Hiroki as he battered his shoulder, carrying him to the living room where they did a lot of... living.


	102. Wow

This is Drabble No. 102!

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><p><span>Wow<span>

"What do you think, Misaki-kun?" Aikawa chirped from the sofa. She was referencing a male model and asking for Misaki's opinion because she was now attempting to write a little novella herself, after almost two decades as Akihiko's editor. The past week had been spent trying to find some inspiration for the main protagonist.

Absent-mindedly, Misaki looked up at the television screen as he carried a pile of laundry to the back-room.

"Meh... too flimsy. Needs to have a bit more... wow. Try my husband, he's upstairs." And he walked off, the slightest whiff of smugness about him; one could easily imagine a rather satisfying night had been enjoyed beforehand. Little did he know that his husband had paused midway down the stairs, just dressed, shocked...

And rather smug himself, really.


	103. Healed

This is Drabble No. 103!

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><p><span>Healed<span>

"You look grim." Akihiko, weak, looked up from the hospital bed as Misaki sat stiffly beside him, gloves held tightly in his lap. "How do you feel?"

"A little better to see you," he mumbled, closing his sensitive eyes to the light. Misaki was trying his best not to cry, not to shed a single emotion past mature and responsible.

"I made you some rice and salmon," he spoke, pursing his lips tightly.

"Oh. Thank you."

Misaki began to pick at the skin around his thumbs, not caring that they became sore.

"Are you hungry?"

"Don't worry, Misaki, leave it there and I'll eat it later. Thank you so much for making it. You need to go to work, don't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Baka." Misaki glanced at his husband: grey-faced with dark circles under his eyes and two-day-old, silver stubble, the lines around his wilted eyes more engraved than last year. "Have you eaten at all?" Misaki barked. Akihiko winced.

"Yes, wife-"

"Don't call me that!" Misaki piped and then immediately regretted being so harsh. All of his worry was tangling up in his stomach. His eyes flitted to Akihiko's graceful hand, to the tendons and fine bones and slightly raised veins...

And the plaster and tube that connected him to a nearby drip.

After a minute, Misaki realised he wasn't breathing and forced himself to inhale, however shallowly.

Then it became too much.

He leapt from his chair, held Akihiko's face in his hands and then kissed him, soft as first, but as all his anxiety unwound, the kiss became deeper and more desperate, conveying a week's worth of communication, from frustration with the broken microwave in the kitchen to sheer fear at the loneliness he felt lying in bed alone. Misaki's hands tingled as the stubble grazed against his sensitive palms, fingers moving to touch Akihiko's ears, to feel him and have him. Akihiko's hand fell lightly on Misaki's back and he smiled into the kiss, despite the effort it took to do even that. Misaki's hands ran into Akihiko's thick hair, soft and slightly sticky from not being washed in four days. He felt a blissful wholesomeness at being so perfectly near to his love. Their tongues moved together, less tango and more like animals lapping over one another's wounds.

After a while, Misaki pulled back but remained kiss-close to Akihiko. His nose and mouth became hot by Akihiko's breathing.

"It's alright, my love," Akihiko whispered, slowly moving his hand to wipe away the tears Misaki hadn't been aware of crying. He hadn't been aware of lying on top of Akihiko either, but as he licked his lips- savouring the familiar taste of Akihiko- Misaki sniffed and sort of slumped down, straddling him. Akihiko continued to stroke Misaki's cheek.

"Sorry," Misaki muttered, rubbing the back of his hand over his nose. "Am I too heavy?"

"Never," Akihiko replied, sleepy-eyed. His hands moved to rest on Misaki's hips, gradually looping his fingers into the belt-holes of Misaki's black jeans.

"How much longer are you going to be in here?"

"You asked a nurse that yesterday. Another week."

"Oh," Misaki moaned. He stroked his hands down to Akihiko's chest and felt his steady breathing- he was relieved how much better it sounded than two days ago, but also buzzing with the knowledge of the still powerful body beneath him.

"I'm sorry-" Akihiko began.

"No, no! It's not your fault. Please don't be sorry, _I'm_ sorry- I didn't mean to make you feel guilty, please-"

"Shhh," Akihiko soothed, one hand moving rather shakily to land on one of Misaki's, on top of Akihiko's heart. Even after twenty-five years, this motion made Misaki's heart shiver with excitement, firework with love then warm indescribably. "I'm better. I'm healed. This is just recovery, remember?"

Misaki sighed and his head fell to Akihiko's chest. He remained still for several moments before asking again, "Are you hungry?", against Akihiko's chest.

"Yes."

"Okay," Misaki exhaled, sounding exhausted. Then, with unexpected liveliness, he pushed himself off Akihiko, grabbed the Tupperware from the bedside table, popped it open and proceeded to hold out a forkful of red rice and meaty salmon. "Come on then, eat!" he ordered, with a faint smile on his mouth. "You should have just said so earlier, instead of being such a martyr."

If someone were to stand outside that hospital room and look in, their heart would be sure to swell as the man in the bed managed two mouthfuls then let his head fall onto the ready hand of his lover-

And rest.


	104. Treasures

This is Drabble No. 104!

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><p><span>Treasures<span>

"What a mouthful..." Akihiko purred, rearing up to rest on his knees as Misaki blushed and panted beneath him, naked on their silk-sheeted bed.

Misaki's eyes were hooded with pure satisfaction, but he was nonetheless enticed by the spectacle of a bare-chested Usami Akihiko, whose lithe muscles cut shadows amidst his moonlight-pale torso. He felt a deep desire to stretch but was utterly exhausted by ecstasy and so instead mustered up just enough to touch the top Akihiko's hand, still breathing heavily and lustily as he spoke.

"I wonder if they're all like you... or whether... you're actually rather mediocre and because of my... because I've only ever been with you, you seem more incredible..."

Over the years, Misaki had discarded much of his inhibition but the new-found confidence was only ever revealed with Akihiko and only ever at times like these. In fact, Misaki was fairly certain Akihiko was guilty of a slow spell, of a witchcraft that had stewed over these seven years, which had loosened his tongue (a fact exposed by more action than speaking).

"What are you saying, Misaki," Akihiko whispered, slyly. He lowered himself between Misaki's open thighs and began to bewitch Misaki's throat and neck slowly and softly. "Are you saying you want to taste other flavours?"

"Would you recommend it?" Misaki teased, almost drugged on Akihiko's loving (which had lasted nine hours now). He let his fingers glide up Akihiko's spine, which arched and allowed Misaki to feel all the textures and subtle ridges of muscle.

"If you had a particular death-wish for someone, by all means..." Akihiko's fingers swept across Misaki's soft stomach, "dine elsewhere." Then Akihiko captured Misaki's mouth with a kiss that felt as an adventure should do- all stars and shadows, treasures and racing and warmth and good and happy endings. "If, however-" Akihiko looked deeply into Misaki's eyes and stroked his hot cheek- "You find the service here delectable..." He pecked Misaki on the lips. "Delicious..." He swiftly nipped Misaki's ear. "Divine..." He graced his wet, agile tongue down Misaki's neck, tracing designs like a wizard does runes.

"Why waste good food!" Misaki exhaled and threw his arms around Akihiko's neck.

"Happy birthday, Misaki," Akihiko whispered, smiling joyously.


	105. Hiccups

This is Drabble No. 105!

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><p><span>Hiccups<span>

"What's the matter, Misaki?" Takahiro asked. They were in the gold-metal elevator, rising up to Akihiko's condo, returning from lunch. Misaki was hiccuping after eating too many strawberry daifukus.

"Just hiccups, don't worry," he replied with a smile. In truth, the smile was forced; he was becoming gradually more and more nervous about having Takahiro in the same space as Akihiko. He had no idea how Akihiko was going to behave around Takahiro when his brother had no idea one of his closest friends and his own little brother were past room-mates and were, in fact, mating.

Hiccup.

Hiccup.

Hiccup.

"Try and hold your breath? Swallow? Breathe faster?"

"I can't do all at once!" Misaki cried, frustrated. He and his brother exited the lift and made their way to the door. "Arrgh, I'll just drink some water when we get in," he said, as he pushed open the door-

To find a bare-chested Akihiko, muscles toned and a sheen over his silvery skin as he stood up from a push-up position, smiling and holding out a hand to greet Takahiro. Just wearing black trousers.

Needless to say, the hiccups ceased.


	106. You

Drabble No. 106!

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><p><span>You<span>

"Screw you."

"What?"

Akihiko had just walked through the front door to this curse. Misaki was seething on the sofa.

"I said screw you."

"You have screwed me, on several-"

"No. I mean 'screw you'. As in, 'fuck you'. As in, 'damn you'."

"What's ha-"

"YOU! You is what has happened. Why do you have to be so... so... arrgh!"

"Use your words."

"Shut up!"

"Misaki, what is your-"

Misaki shot up from the sofa, eyes fiercely green as he ranted.

"I didn't know I was gay. Okay? I didn't know I was gay. Now I do. So that's cool and everything, thanks for shagging me senseless, like, four years ago and making me realise that shizz."

"Hold on," Akihiko said, taking off his scarf and coat and hanging them up. "Your problem is that you're gay and you're good with that or I shagged you and... I was good at that?" His smirk did not help matters.

"No! My problem is that you're so... so _you_ that you have made it impossible for me to feel any sort of... you know about any other guy! I've been sitting here flicking through TV channels, looking through magazines and I realised that in these four years I have not been remotely attracted to ANY. OTHER. GUY. And it's just so infuriating! I mean, I just know you had to have had other... like, _people_ in your life before me, but me? Oh no. I just had to meet you. You with your suits and broad shoulders and fancy lingo and sense of humour and kindness and manly s-"

"Misaki?"

"What?!"

"Can I take this to mean you missed me?"


	107. Deliciously

Drabble No. 107!

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><p><span>Deliciously<span>

"I... Shinobu, what are you doing?"

"It's pretty obvious what I'm doing."

They were lying in their bed, resting after a particularly loving shag in the dark. Shinobu had just slid down the covers and placed a Malteser in Miyagi's belly-button.

"Okay, but why are you doing it?"

Shinobu's tongue demonstrated deliciously.


	108. Revolutions

Drabble No. 108!

These last 3 updates have been quickly written to release energy. This might explain a slightly rushed feeling...

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><p>Revolutions<p>

"Well, this sucks."

Nowaki glanced up from his newspaper, slightly shocked by Hiroki's uncharacteristically colloquial statement.

"What's up?"

"Next year's syllabus for the University?" Nowaki nodded. "I don't know, like... half of it."

"How's that possible? You've read all of the books at the Uni and more."

"But they've changed the content. There's a lot of Western history in it now that I've haven't covered so in-depth."

"Like what?"

"The French Revolution, invasion of the-"

"Wait."

What came up next involved revolutions and invasions that soothed Hiroki's stress for a solid afternoon.


	109. Suit

Drabble No. 109!

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><p><span>Suit<span>

"Yah!" Misaki gasped, gripping Akihiko's lapels and arching his neck back, bucking his hips hard as Akihiko took full advantage of the opportunity to praise his neck with his more-than-talented tongue. "You've... gotta... give that..." Misaki clenched his knees to Akihiko's waist, enjoying the feel of the untucked silk shirt on his skin. How was it that Misaki was completely naked and Akihiko still had all of his upper-garments on? "Speech," he squeaked.

"I need my confidence," Akihiko murmured into Misaki's ear. He went to shrug off his dinner jacket but Misaki stopped him, sharply.

"No," he blurted out. Akihiko slowed his movements, but they still remained tortuously awesome.

"You want this on?"

"Yeah... well... _ah_!" They engaged in a dizzying kiss before Misaki continued. "It, er..." It wasn't that he didn't like Akihiko bare-chested. If anything, he secretly anticipated it. But...

"You like a guy in a suit, hey?" Akihiko asked, eyes twinkling as he smiled.

"No... just..."

"What?"

"You..." Misaki replied, quietly. "You in a suit."

Akihiko exhaled, his smile widening and leaned down to kiss Misaki again when there came a knock at the door; they were in one of the smaller auditoriums of another University.

"Usami-sensei! It's Aikawa! You better get your ass out here if you want to keep this job of yours!"

Akihiko picked up speed again, panting over Misaki's collarbone as he called out, pleasantly,

"Coming!"

Misaki nipped Akihiko's neck and they smirked at one another.


	110. Rain

Drabble No. 110! Wow :)

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><p><span>Rain<span>

Shinobu's lips crashed onto Miyagi's like a tidal wave, his hands seeking the man's cold ears as the rain pelted around them in the night. He could taste chocolate and cookie dough and- amidst a passionate kiss- playfully licked at it.

"Shinobu...?" Miyagi gasped, hoarsely, his hands holding Shinobu's wrists.

"I'm sorry!" Shinobu cried over the thundering rain, as cars swooshed past them on the main road, headlamps sending light flying across their anguished faces. Shinobu had flown from the car with the same speed when he had seen Miyagi ambling down the street. "I was angry! I thought you didn't care! I wasn't gonna go-"

"I didn't know I cared so much!" Miyagi shouted, shaking Shinobu's hands emphatically. "I didn't!" He was close to pining. "At first, I loved your company, I loved to feel so needed, I loved the... well, the sex! And I loved how you reminded me of... of sensei. But now I love... I love how I love..." The rain calmed down a smidgen, just enough for Shinobu to hear Miyagi's exhausted sigh and he shivered as Miyagi's fingertips traced around the shells of his ears. "You," he finished, shoulders dropping. He was spellbound with how richly Shinobu's eyes suited the rain. Shinobu was fascinated with Miyagi's hair: black as the night and sparkling with the same rain.

"It hurt," Shinobu fell against Miyagi's strong chest, his cheek sliding a little on the silky shirt. His arms wrapped around Miyagi's waist as Miyagi's clutched Shinobu around his shoulders.

It's a strange feeling, standing in the pouring rain, cars zooming around you and still being at home.

Because _he_'s there.


	111. Brilliant

Drabble No. 111! Wow :)

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><p><span>Brilliant<span>

Misaki wandered around the brightly lit hallways, fiddling with the knot of his tie as he turned round corners, searching for Akihiko. Although he knew Akihiko hated these things, it was unlike the man to arrive and then put off; he'd try to get it over and done with as soon as possible.

Misaki sighed as he passed a row of doors, then stopped as he spotted one slightly ajar. Peering inside, he saw Akihiko and frowned.

Strong, confident Akihiko was practically panting, his hands clenching and unclenching as he paced around a desk. Misaki watched for a few more seconds, unnerved, before he pushed the door open and walked inside.

"Usagi-san?"

Akihiko looked up and swallowed. All it took was one look.

Misaki strode over to his partner, took his face in his hands and kissed him gently, calmly. Akihiko exhaled deeply and fell forwards just enough to push Misaki against the desk and plant his hands on the wood. Misaki stroked Akihiko's ears and cheeks.

"It's okay... okay? We'll do this and then it's home and food. I won't let them force you to stay longer. Just the speech." Akihiko's eyes darkened and his silver hair tickled Misaki's forehead as he bowed his head. Misaki's fingers rubbed down Akihiko's neck, lovingly. "Come on, big guy."

"You've never called me that," Akihiko muttered into Misaki's collarbone as his fingers now fiddled with Misaki's tie-knot.

"Well, it's true. You are a big guy. You're brilliant." Akihiko pulled back and stared into Misaki's eyes. "I mean it. So, get your ass out of here-" Misaki was smiling with this comment, even as he blushed- "onto that stage, make that speech and then get your ass back home so you can show me just how big and brilliant you really are. And I mean the real stuff-" Misaki's hands rested on Akihiko's chest, seeking to soothe and seduce him- "not the faux-fabulous you show these clowns."

Akihiko groaned half-heartedly and settled his chin on Misaki's shoulder, nose silking its way around Misaki's ear and tongue following suit for one tantalising, tingling second. His hands palmed over Misaki's shirt, just above his hips, his thumbs pushing softly into him-

Before Misaki pushed as hard as he could against Akihiko.

"Speech. Home. Bed," he reprimanded. Akihiko huffed, stood straight, adjusted his tie, strained his neck to the side and then marched out of the room. Misaki fell back against the table and steadied his squealing nerves before smiling and following. "He's still got it," Misaki muttered to himself, in half disbelief, as his libido pined and yapped for its lord and master to calm its now wagging tail.


	112. Do

Drabble No. 112! Wow :)

Hope you enjoy ^.^ Let me know ^.^

SakuraFlowersFalling, thank you very much for all your lovely reviews, so happy you like these drabbles ^.^

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><p><span>Do<span>

"God! I just want to create something! Write something! I don't want to work at the University, I don't want to mark papers, I don't want to speak to exam officials! I want to write, I hate the _work_, no, the _labour_, I have to put in. I know that if I could just write then I'd be happy, but I can't just bloody write, because we need money, money to survive and-"

"Hey. What do you wanna do?" Nowaki interrupted Hiroki's tirade, serene and smiling with a hint of seduction.

"Write!" Hiroki exploded.

"Mmhmm. I get that..." Nowaki kept smiling as he calmly stirred his tea and then looked back up at his fuming husband. "You know what I wanna do?"

"What?!"

Nowaki blinked and took a sip of his tea, before his smile grew wider.

"You."


	113. Birthday

Drabble No. 113! Wow :)

Hope you enjoy ^.^ Let me know ^.^

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><p><span>Birthday<span>

We stepped into the cool darkness of the apartment. Akihiko was wearing the long, navy coat that emphasised his manly shoulders and height. I blush insanely, internally, when I admit that adjective... okay, and externally).

Those genius fingers were tucked into his pockets as we stood, silent and still for a few seconds, before both spinning round into a hungry kiss. The champagne from hours ago still fizzed between us.

He spun me round so I was pushed against the chest of drawers and I caught sight of the stars and spotlight moon out of the panoramic windows. His cold hands smoothed under my shirt, his palms genius too as they silked over my stomach- full of a delicious dinner.

I sort of gasped and groaned into the side of his neck, hands clinging the back of that sinful coat as he spoke spicily into my ear,

"Did you enjoy the opera?"

My hands reached for his orgasmically lush hair as he kissed with tortuous lightness down my neck.

"Uhuh," I breathed, mind somersaulting as I anticipated his next- and one of his most favoured- moves.

Swiftly, he raised me off the floor, planted me on the chest of drawers and sunk between my parted legs. Even with both of us still wearing trousers (which were soon to be gone in 60, 59, 58...) the tension and heat was incredible.

His mouth captured mine in a kiss full of hot breath and ready tongue, his tongue so gentle and wet it got me to thinking of other parts of our bodies meeting.

He had undone my tie by now without my realising and had flicked open the top button of my shirt to dip his tongue into the middle of my collarbone. A more than competent multi-tasker, his hands simultaneously set to work on my zipper. He reached in and welcomed my hard-on with the heel of one hand, whispering low as he raised his head so he could look down my enraptured face. It was a move of superiority that brought my arousal to full blossom. I would later try very hard to literally kick myself at this flower analogy.

"Ahh- are these for me?" He was referencing the silk boxers I was wearing especially for the occasion; it was such a classy suit he'd bought me for my birthday.

"No one else," I whispered back, shakily, rubbing my cheek up against his and biting my lip when I felt the slight stubble. He seemed to get off on the idea of there being no one else who could touch my boxers. No one else who could fill me up. No one else who could fuck me. I was his.

That was when he got all primal on my ass. Quite literally. We got coital pretty quickly after generous lube.

The build-up was amazing. I clung to him so tightly, momentarily not caring about anything else. I ensured every part of my body could feel him as his hips hypnotised mine.

Our noses touched and he smiled open-mouthed, panting.

"Come on, Misaki," he encouraged, gasping as I retorted with a strong clench. "Come... for me."

I made _sounds_ for him, they floated between our mouths, he caught them and responded with dark, deep answers. I know I turned him on with my satisfaction, he knew I knew, I knew he knew I knew- it goes on and the pleasure perpetuum continues.

My neck strained back, body acting without warning from my mind; it was all instinctive. He praised my throat with kisses and soft bites. A rush of love sent me surging forwards and I teased and tongued his ear- the left, the most sensitive- well enough to elicit a certain growl. Only I saw this side of him. No confidently quiet Lord for me.

My calf muscles ached from embracing his waist.

"Come on. Come on..."

"Aahhh!"

My nails drew down his neck through sweat.

I tugged on his earlobes as the dialogue of our bodies came to a passionate peak and in my mind I saw my eighteen-year-old self, shy and relatively unresponsive. Eleven years on and I wasn't a complete convert, but man did I _love_ love.

Stroking his jaw, I inclined my head and inhaled him, intoxicated.

"Hey, Misaki..."

I looked up.

"I love you. Happy birthday."

That just about did it. Hell yeah it was explosive.

I forced our rhythm to a slow, pulled him close for a time-stoppingly slow and tender kiss. I felt him pulse.

He sensed when to shock me with a conclusive shot to my system.

I draped over his shoulder afterwards, legs limp at his sides.

"Thank you," I yawned, content and quiet. He smiled and touched the bridge of his nose to mine.

"My pleasure."

"You know it."

We laughed.


	114. Sensei

This is Drabble No. 114!

Thank you for all the faves and the lovely reviews, really encouraging and I promise to reply to every one as soon as I can ^^

It's awesome to hear people's opinions, so please feel free to remark however you wish.

_Italic_ is Miyagi, **Bold** is Shinobu.

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><p><span>Sensei<span>

"So. Sir. What do you do to revise?"

Miyagi turned round on his podium, lips parted mid-lecture and hands mid-gesture, to acknowledge the little fox who had just interrupted him. He had been advising his class how to prepare for exams.

"Takatsuki-kun?" _Shinobu? _"How may I help you?" _How long have you been standing there?__  
><em>

"I've been transferred into your class, Yoh-sensei."

Miyagi clenched his jaw and his shoulder twitched slightly. He arched an eyebrow and smirked.

"Have you now?"

Shinobu's eyebrows quivered: **Why are you flirting with** **me?**

"Yes, sensei."

A saga of teacher-student fantasies were flipping through Miyagi's mind. With forced control, he swept his hand round and erased his smirk.

"Well, then, take a seat." Shinobu sidled to a seat at the very front, dead centre. "And whilst you're at it, you could take out a book on manners, for interrupting my seminar." _  
><em>

"My apologies, sensei," Shinobu said, with surprising sincerity. He crossed his legs, opened his eyes to their fullest brilliance, straightened his back...

Licked his lips and pouted in mock-interest, luckily just out of eyesight of the rest of the students.

Miyagi blinked. _Are you trying to get me fired?_

Yoh-sensei attempted to refocus for approximately ten minutes. But, when Shinobu raised his hand whilst sucking the end of his biro-

"Class dismissed. Now. _Now._"

Shinobu bowed his head as he stood up with the rest of the class and gathered his things. The bustle managed to make private the moment when Miyagi apparated in front of Shinobu and, with a devilish dark tone, commanded-

"Sit."


	115. Salve

This is Drabble No. 115!

Thank you for all the faves and the lovely reviews, really encouraging and I promise to reply to every one as soon as I can ^^

It's awesome to hear people's opinions, so please feel free to remark however you wish.

* * *

><p><span>Salve<span>

Hiroki walked into the living-room, scowling. His left cheek was aflame.

Nowaki- warm and comfortable on the sofa during a rare weekend-break from the hospital- turned as his partner exited the bathroom.

"Hiro-san! What's happened to your cheek?"

"Acne!" Hiroki cried, throwing his hands up in the air, eyes scarily wide. Like an owl's.

"Acne?"

"Those bloody teenagers at the university, they've plagued me!"

"Hiro-san," Nowaki soothed, rising from the sofa and striding over to his love, "acne isn't a plague. Let me see-" they were both in the kitchen now, Hiroki leaning against the side-counter- "did you pick?"

"Of course I picked," Hiroki growled, turning his cheek away, sulky. Nowaki raised a hand and ran his thumb over the bumps and dry skin. Hiroki flinched and folded his arms tightly, glaring at the floor.

"Look what you've done..." Nowaki murmured, eyebrows meeting quite sadly as he let a small smile grace his face. Hiroki batted Nowaki's hand away. Nowaki sighed, swiftly cupped Hiroki's face in both of his hands, ensured eye-contact and kissed him, embracing Hiroki's lower lip with his mouth. He smiled as he watched the rash-red of the abused area spread to both of his lover's cheeks. "We'll have to get a salve on that," Nowaki whispered, eyes reminding Hiroki of warm oceans under a night sky.

"It's horrible..." Hiroki spoke into his chest.

"It must be sore," Nowaki whispered against the tingling skin, index fingers setting Hiroki's nerves rioting behind his ears.

Hiroki fell forward and kissed the dip of Nowaki's collarbone. Nowaki breathed out a contented laugh and hugged his sulking Hiroki.

"Fancy showing me your riding skills?"


	116. Ribbon

This is Drabble No. 116!

Thank you for all the faves and the lovely reviews, really encouraging and I promise to reply to every one as soon as I can ^^

It's awesome to hear people's opinions, so please feel free to remark however you wish.

I knoooow this is a Christmas drabble - forgive me for being, like, more than two months early. Forgive... : )?

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><p><span>Ribbon<span>

"You know you could have just as easily tied the bow in one knot and left it like that and it would have looked just as good... save yourself the energy, Misaki," Akihiko spoke into his newspaper, legs folded as he sat on the sofa.

Misaki, kneeling on the floor surrounded by Christmas gifts/wrapping paper/ribbon/Sellotape/glitter, glared up at his man, brandishing a pair of scissors.

"I'm trying to appease the melodrama, no... SOAP OPERA of _your_ family by distracting them with all the fanciness they have been trained to feel entitled to. _My_ family isn't get the curled ribbon or glitter-written gift-tags! They're not so pretentious and appearance-orientated that I feel the need to impress them!"

"Why do you want to impress my family?" Akihiko asked, blankly staring over the top of his paper. Misaki's words got stuck in his throat and he blushed Christmas-red. "Misaki," Akihiko teased, dropping his paper onto his lap. "Why do you want to impress my family?" He was properly grinning now.

Misaki attempted to ignore him by cutting random lengths of golden ribbon and fiddling with various knick-knacks, pretending to size them up on the wrapping paper. Akihiko leaned over his knees and folded his arms.

"Misaki..." he whispered, all slyness and sex. Misaki huffed, snatched a long strip of ribbon from the floor, caught Akihiko's head and tied a speedy bow-tie around his mouth.

"Because I want them to accept me, okay? I want them to accept that I... that you a-and... you know, that... argh!" Misaki shot up from the floor and stormed to the kitchen.

Akihiko blinked, still smiling though gagged with silk and sequins, admired Misaki's rear-end then cocked his head to the side and slipped the ribbon down so it hung loosely about his neck.

"You want them to accept us?" Akihiko asked Misaki's back. Misaki clenched the side-counter and his shoulders raised. Then, after a couple of seconds, he deflated and nodded his head.

There was a silence. Then the silence dragged on for too long, so Misaki turned round...

And gaped at what he saw.

Akihiko- suit, ribbon and all- was sat cross-legged on the floor, assessing how much paper was necessary for a little musical box they'd bought for Takahiro's newborn son, effectively their nephew.

Misaki smiled softly to himself, then shook his head and strode briskly over to Akihiko.

"That's too much, actually put it on the paper instead of estimating."

Half an hour into the conjugal wrapping, Akihiko broke a pleasant silence.

"You know, this would be the perfect opportunity for you to take the bow around my neck, yank me to you and kiss me-" Misaki had ripped off a bit of Sellotape and fastened it over Akihiko's lips. There was a pause...

Before they both laughed.


	117. Swivelled

This is Drabble No. 117!

Thank you for all the faves and the lovely reviews, really encouraging and I promise to reply to every one as soon as I can ^^

It's awesome to hear people's opinions, so please feel free to remark however you wish.

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><p><span>Swivelled<span>

"Eye-headache. Ugh. Ow. Ow." Misaki groaned as the light of his laptop began to freeze his brain and hurt his eyes. The room was dark save for the glow.

"Stop working now, stupid," Akihiko said from behind him. Misaki jumped and swivelled round on his chair, about to berate Akihiko but silenced by the two kisses he planted on his eyelids.

"Usagi-sa-"

"Shh. Let me do the work now." And with that, Akihiko bent down on his knees...


	118. Cold

This is Drabble No. 118!

Thank you for all the faves and the lovely reviews, really encouraging and I promise to reply to every one as soon as I can ^^

It's awesome to hear people's opinions, so please feel free to remark however you wish.

* * *

><p><span>Cold<span>

R

The day grew faint.

A grey gust of wind blurred the edges of the town.

"It's getting cold, now, Usagi... please wear a scarf when you go outside."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah-"

Misaki spun away from the living room windows to glare at Akihiko by the door.

"Don't you 'yeah' me, sir! Who's the one who's going to have to look after you when-"

"Yeah?" Usagi grinned, plucking the cigarette from his lip to open the door, which he exited through with a wink.

"Arrgh!" Misaki stormed to his room to do some revision.

E

The day grew faint.

A grey gust of wind blurred the edges of the town.

Hiroki clutched his arms with his hands as he hurried down the street, teeth chattering. Relief vanquished the cold inside of him as he remembered Nowaki was at home tonight.

_Warm soup_, he thought with a smile. _Warm him..._ he thought with a bigger one.

He moved his slightly trembling hand to his pocket where there was a paper bag protecting a pastry for Nowaki, which they would doubtless share.

The cold went mute as Hiroki kept his thoughts trained on this pleasantry.

T

The day grew faint.

A grey gust of wind blurred the edges of the town.

Shivering atop Miyagi, Shinobu took another swig of hot chocolate, then smiled as his breath went white in their cold room. They kissed as Miyagi gently drove into him. Miyagi's hands stroked down the soles of Shinobu's feet by his thighs.

Tingles.


	119. Dressed

This is Drabble No. 119!

Thank you for all the faves and the lovely reviews, really encouraging and I promise to reply to every one as soon as I can ^^

It's awesome to hear people's opinions, so please feel free to remark however you wish.

* * *

><p><span>Dressed<span>

Nowaki held his hands behind his head as he watched Hiroki get dressed at the end of the bed opposite the wardrobe.

"It sucks you can't get a day off," he sighed. Hiroki turned round to face Nowaki as he buttoned up a pin-striped shirt.

"You're not making it any easier for me sitting in bed topless like that," he grumbled, blushing as he buckled up his belt.

Nowaki exhaled through his nose with a sort of laugh.

"I'm only topless because you stripped me and-"

"Uhuhuhuhuhuhuh! No! No talking about it, you know I hate that."

Nowaki clenched his jaw and smiled, stretching out his long legs under the covers.

"Well, do you want me to get dressed too?"

Hiroki sighed and deflated for a moment before grudgingly looking up and engaging Nowaki in some intense eye-contact.

"No. I want you to stay like that for three hours, until I get home."

Nowaki's eyebrow perked up.

"Yes... Sensei."

Hiroki glared and smirked at Nowaki as he lifted his satchel and left the room.


	120. Better

This is Drabble No. 120!

Two in one night, that hasn't happened in a while... I'm trying to get to 127 by Saturday. So, people, throw any word at me, if you want, and I'll try and drill through them this week ^.^

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><p><span>Better<span>

"Why does the light have to be on?" Shinobu groaned over the sink, as Miyagi fingers massaged shampoo through his hair.

"Because I can't see without the light on," Miyagi said softly, spinning on the hot tap as he began to rinse Shinobu's head. Shinobu sniffed, loudly.

"This hurts. The light hurts."

"I know, but I promise you it'll feel better to be clean."

"I could have had a shower."

"You're too weak to stand."

"It's just a flu!"

"And you just poured cereal into the sink this morning before offering me a cup of coffee that looked distinctly blue."

There was a silence between them as Miyagi washed Shinobu's hair, loving the silkiness of it. After a couple of minutes, he turned the water off.

"We're done."

"Uhhhh. Okay." And with that, Shinobu managed to flop back up before shamelessly letting his body drape backwards over his lover. Miyagi stroked circles on Shinobu's stomach.

"Okay," he soothed, gently, drying his hands on a towel before rubbing his hair dry. "Back to bed." He kissed him on the head, helped to turn him around, guided his hands onto his hips and then began the journey back to the bedroom.


	121. Warm

This is Drabble No. 121!

Wow thank you for the suggestions and reviews! I shall pick and choose words offered in no particular order, so please no offence!

This one is sort of inspired by Mimimikan's suggestion of another episode of Akihiko and Misaki in the bath... Thank you : )

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><p><span>Warm<span>

"Would you like me to come with you?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Would you like me to make you some lunch to take?"

"No."

"Are you scared? D-"

"No, Misaki. I'm fine. Stop fussing."

Misaki was stumped for a moment, holding out Akihiko's scarf. Him fussing? Well that was rich. Ironic, even.

"Fine," he said softly, handing over the scarf and scratching his eyebrow.

"Thank you," Akihiko smiled, taking the scarf and heading towards the door. "I'll see you later. Don't worry."

Door open. Door closed. Misaki standing by himself in the quiet apartment, the muffled ping and zhoom of the elevator. Silence.

Misaki sighed, attempting nonchalance, but caring coated his throat and he felt his eyes prickle; he wanted to be with Akihiko when he got the injection. They wanted to do tests...

Misaki swallowed, sniffed and looked up.

Akihiko came home three hours later as Misaki sat down to read a manga after completing a quality report on a newly-hired mangaka for Aikawa.

"How did it-"

"It was fine," Akihiko interrupted, tone plain as unbuttered toast. He dismantled the scarf from his neck, shook off his coat and strode up the stairs, then _bang_ into the bathroom. Again Misaki was stumped. He heard the lush rush of water pummelling the tub upstairs and tried to regain focus on his manga. But caring had clouded his vision and cloaked his concentration too.

"Bastard," Misaki muttered under his breath. How could Akihiko be so moody with him? Was he stressed? If he was, why hadn't he told him?

Misaki smacked his book on the table and swept up the stairs towards the bathroom. He knocked on the door which creaked open when he did. So Akihiko hadn't locked the door. This was a good sign.

He stood in the doorway watching Akihiko- undressing by the bath- undo his cuff-buttons then watching the shirt float to the tiled floor. The silvery-white skin of his subtly muscled back was revealed in the gradually misting mirror over the sink. Misaki's eyes followed Akihiko's spine, stomach swooping at the divine drop. Misaki noticed the blob of cotton-wool taped near his left shoulder.

Then the belt, unbuckled... Akihiko performed this manoeuvre with such sumptuous masculinity, muscles moving lucid like shadows in his arms.

Next sock one.

Then sock two.

Then trouser-zip, then trousers down...

Boxers.

Misaki folded his arms in cool, moody frustration- he was watching Akihiko but Akihiko hadn't once looked at him.

Once the boxers came off, the rage of the water roared in Misaki's ears again. Akihiko turned profile, flaccid as Misaki stood there motionlessly now.

After a few moments, Akihiko leaned over- thigh tendon tautening- screwed the tap off, then sunk his body into the bath.

Misaki felt very clothed with his long-sleeved green top and combats. The air was muggy and warm.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked, quietly, faintly holding onto his frustration with Akihiko, but too worried to commit too callously.

"Won't know until the tests come back," Akihiko bit out sharply. Misaki didn't flinch- he was used to Akihiko's bite. He dropped his head for a moment and chewed on his lower lip as Akihiko soaked. He heard Akihiko sigh deeply.

With a sort of fatigue, Misaki loped over to the tub and- clothes still on- got in, inspiring a blink and flinch of shock from Akihiko as he stepped between his open legs and his socks drowned. It was a significant fraction too hot and Misaki winced as his clothes got drenched, sitting opposite Akihiko. He drew his knees up to his chest and stared Akihiko right in the eyes.

"No matter what it is," he informed, softly, "I'll be... I'll be here." Misaki's fingers tingled under the water as he felt an urge to stroke the small lump they'd found on the back of Akihiko's neck, just under his hair, a couple of weeks ago. His heart was tripping over itself as it cantered in his chest- crippled horse of a thing, handicapped by perverse thoughts of the lump being something fatal, something tragic, something that could take Akihiko away...

"I don't want you here for it," Akihiko spoke, again with that tone as grey as his dejected face. "I won't have you-"

"You don't have a choice," Misaki interjected, with a sobriety that equalled Akihiko's. The water twinkled as Akihiko's toe twitched by Misaki's submerged hip.

After a few moments of staring- the space between them teeming with invisible little flying creatures of love and fear, their tiny wings troubled with the intensity- Misaki's hand rose out of the water with a blooming of watery sounds. His fingers twitched and tapped the air as his hand travelled over to Akihiko's resting on the rim of the tub. He held it. Gently. The water was warm between their skin. Misaki traced wet, flowery patterns over Akihiko's fine finger-bones.

Akihiko's stare softened and his eyes began to melt and grow darker.

"We don't know if it's serious," Misaki said lowly, stroking along the inside of Akihiko's thumb and then picking at the rough skin by his nail, absent-mindedly. Akihiko leaned back and his chest rose and fell with another melancholy sigh. Misaki was transfixed. He stopped movement altogether just to absorb Akihiko the best he could.

His palm smoothed up Akihiko's arm as- in an action incongruous to his character- he leaned forwards into the water, chest falling against chest, Misaki's stomach sinking over Akihiko and pressing his manliness against himself. The steam twisted and spiralled like roses and vines over and around their bodies, between their lips as Misaki pressed his to Akihiko's lightly, warmth soaking their entireties.


	122. Sweet

This is Drabble No. 122!

Wow thank you for the suggestions and reviews! I shall pick and choose words offered in no particular order, so please no offence!

I think my shortest drabble ever...

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><p><span>Sweet<span>

Getting sweet, cherry-flavoured candy-floss out of Miyagi's hair is way more fun that it sounds.


	123. Buzzing

This is Drabble No. 123! (easy as... *ahem*)

Wow, thank you for the suggestions and reviews! I shall pick and choose words offered in no particular order, so please take no offence!

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><p><span>Buzzing<span>

Hiroki's whole body stiffened and arched simultaneously, wrists straining against the make-shift cuffs Nowaki had concocted using that day's pair of socks. Nowaki's hands were splayed at the top of Hiroki's thighs as he tantalised Hiroki with his tortuously delicate tongue and its intricate patterns. This had, Hiroki was sure, little to do with the legitimate physical examination Nowaki had called for. Hiroki's heels dug into Nowaki's bare back, just under his shoulder-blades, his toes scrunching in towards Nowaki's spine as Nowaki's mouth welcomed him with an unparalleled warmth.

"Nowa_ki_..." he gasped and exhaled almost at once, ecstatic.

"Mmhmm?" Nowaki hummed in response. Hiroki trembled at the sensation and began to devise a 'thank-you' in his mind, which was buzzing with pleasure.

"I think..." Hiroki panted, "Gahh, I don't think. Can't."

Nowaki's teeth came delicately into action.


	124. Cookie

This is Drabble No. 124!

Wow, thank you for the suggestions and reviews! I shall pick and choose words offered in no particular order, so please take no offence!

* * *

><p><span>Cookie<span>

"What's that?" Nowaki asked Hiroki as they sat on the sofa and watched the television.

"It's a cookie," Hiroki answered mid-munch, eyes glued on the screen. He sensed Nowaki watching him and turned his attention towards him only to realise the adoring gaze was not for him but the chocolate cookie.

Hiroki blinked.

"You want some?"

Nowaki crossed his legs on the sofa and gave the cookie a intense look, squinted his eyes and pursed his lips...

Then swiftly leaned over and took a crunch.

"Good?" Hiroki asked, bemused.

"Mm!" Nowaki nodded, enthusiastic and serious all at once.

"Weirdo," Hiroki smiled, leaning back and relaxing on the sofa. They returned to watching the telly for a few minutes before Hiroki slowly raised the cookie back to Nowaki's lips.

Nowaki smiled, turned his neck and smirked as he took another bite.

"Yum..." he murmured.


	125. Epitome

This is Drabble No. 125!

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><p><span>Epitome<span>

Akihiko walked into the restaurant-

No.

He swaggered. _Oh_ so subtly.

It was with a suave twist of his tie-knot and a devil-may-care glance to the left that he graced that red-walled dining hall with his presence. He was the epitome. Of? Just... the epitome.

I watched as his stare paralysed onlookers for a strenuous milisecond before they wrenched themselves back to their conversations and food, a little worse-for-wear than before.

It was rather heart-stopping- the icily cool aura that cloaked him, the intense brow and the surreal _pulse_ that wavered around him.

Watching Misaki opposite me was just as fascinating. He had been talking to me, interested, focused-

But Akihiko's tenor voice, subdued as it was when speaking to strangers or those he cared little for, clinched Misaki the moment Akihiko entered and muttered to the maitre d'.

And the way Misaki followed the man as he walked- no, strode... a veritable sex-stride- over to our mat was glorious. Not overt, not covert, but a proud point in between. But so shy.

It was rather beautiful.

What touched me the most was how Akihiko acknowledged this shyness. Two, three years ago, Akihiko barely cared for another's feelings. Polite, yes- painfully- but did he care? Nuh-uh. Caring now, when Akihiko came to sit down- much to the blush of Misaki- he lightly touched Misaki on the arm, cooing a low-timbre, "Misaki", before smiling pleasantly enough at me and saying,

"Happy birthday, Aikawa. I trust Misaki bought you something brilliant?"


	126. Awkward

This is Drabble No. 126!

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><p><span>Awkward<span>

"Let's try and make this as least awkward as possible. If you speak to him again, I will-"

"Miyagi, the guy was offering me aftershave!" Shinobu clenched Miyagi's forearm and tried to pull him away.

"He called you beautiful!"

"Firstly, that's the name of the flipping product-" Shinobu looked to the salesman for some aid, who subsequently held the bottle out for clearer inspection by Miyagi- "And secondly," and he muttered this, "since when have you been so eager to display love or jealousy _outside_?"

Miyagi blinked. Then, he calmly reached down to extract Shinobu's hand from his arm, swallowed and demurely asked the almost-victim,

"Is it a fresh or heavy scent?"


	127. Musicality

This is Drabble No. 127!

After a much-needed 'kick up the arse' (for want of a better phrase!) from an 'Anonymous' Guest reviewer, I have returned! Studying and life have arrested me. I suppose I really should change the blurb of this from 'one-a-day' to 'as many as possible whenever I can!'

How're everyone's holidays going? Help yourself to a Suzuki-san cookie on your way out ^.^ I welcome word suggestions for this festive season! The cookies and suggestion tins are conveniently near the review station... fancy that ; )

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><p><span>Musicality<span>

'_He was the cool, dark shadow in the corner of the room, his floral eyes- so very lilac that they bloomed and exuded a heady, hypnotising scent- flitting from stranger to stranger as he sipped delicately at his whisky-on-the-rocks. _

_There was a strength about him, symbolised by the bold silver of his hair, and a musicality to his motions which_-'

"Musicality?"

Misaki leapt out his computer-chair and landed by the door as fright zinged from his left ear, followed by a wooziness as he saw Akihiko still bowed over, hands held behind his back and a smile on his face illuminated blue by the laptop screen.

His lips were dry, his throat felt like it had been scorched with sand and his palms were already slippery as he clenched his hands into fists. Cold, too.

Akihiko's smile evaporated as he stood up and straightened his arms by his sides.

"Misaki," he said, sternly. "Don't be embarrassed." Misaki crumpled himself against the wall, head hung. "I write about you all the-"

"How do you know it was about you, huh?" Misaki suddenly snapped. Akihiko blinked, smiled and folded his arms over his chest.

"Lilac eyes and silver hair? Whisky-on-the-rocks?"

"Coincidences."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Really," Misaki bit out, folding his arms defensively. Akihiko licked his lower lip and shook his head to himself, sighing and moving on to what had really interested him.

"Musicality?"

Misaki bit the inside of his lip and glared at Akihiko then glared sideways at the floor. Suddenly, Akihiko was up against him with a rush of warmth.

"Musicality..." he repeated once more into Misaki's hair. He shivered. "Can I insinuate rhythm from that, too? Does this character have rhythm?" Akihiko whispered, hands gliding up to Misaki's hips. Misaki pushed him away, blushing-

And smiling!

Was this possible?

"Is this a smile I see?"

"No," Misaki said, storming out of the room. Akihiko tailed.

"Has my mere mention, my humorous hint provoked an uncontrollable smile?"

"No!" Misaki said, storming down the stairs.

"I think it has!" Akihiko exclaimed as Misaki zoomed to the kitchen. "I think I have managed to make you blush and smile-"

"Alright, alright! Shut up, you annoying... annoyingness."

"Oh no," Akihiko laughed, joining Misaki in the kitchen, taking the knife and cucumber from his hands and walking him against the kitchen counter. "If you insult me, you use this hidden voice. Use symbolism, metaphor-"

"You make it sound like dirty talk!"

"You love it," Akihiko murmured, stroking his cool cheek over Misaki's hot one.


	128. Zooming

Happy New Year, one and all!

'URGH' and 'IRATE READER' (one person?) I was much entertained by your commands, you're very right I should get my s**t together. Studying did supercede, however.

Many, many thanks to V (reference to the V 'cast vicariously as both victim and villain...'?) for your awesome comment, I am so pleased you feel you get to know the characters more with my drabbles! The pressure has definitely mounted!

Without further ado-

This is Drabble No. 128

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><p><span>Zooming<span>

They had not seen eachother in five weeks and had only twenty minutes before they would be parted again.

Zooming towards the airport in the back of the taxi, Miyagi and Shinobu made their best attempts to be adequately reacquainted, privacy border reeled up between themselves and the driver. Conversation was not attempted- no 'how was your trip, Shinobu, were you enlightened by the libraries?' or 'So what do you think will be the biggest topic on your conference in England, Miyagi?'

Oh no. This was crunch time.

A primal, zealous hunger thrummed inside Miyagi- a lusty need-to-feed- as he threw Shinobu's knee into the air, swivelling him round so his head was against the window.

Shinobu unzipped Miyagi's coat, prepared to rip buttons, only to come across a deliberately unbuttoned shirt and a much-missed pride of male torso. His exclamation of lust and delight was just about muffled by Miyagi's rich kiss as Shinobu's fingers blazed down his chest, tugging at Miyagi's belt.

Fly undone, Shinobu's hand went a'wandering as his nose sought the deepest smell of Miyagi in his hair.

Miyagi's hand shot to the window behind Shinobu's head with a satisfying thump, his legs scrambling and slipping for room and grip on the taxi seats as his palms soothed down Shinobu's inner thighs and came to undo his trousers.

"Nu-uh," Shinobu murmured, "we don't have time."

Miyagi's disappointment was adorably audible.

"Come on," he protested into Shinobu's ear, "I brought the lu-"

"No," Shinobu cut Miyagi short, his busy hand encouraging bliss. The car swerved, bringing Miyagi toppling down on Shinobu, who took the opportunity to nip and suck wetly on Miyagi's ear.

"Gah..." Miyagi gasped, one hand clamped on Shinobu's shoulder, the other still pressed hard on the window. "I'm going to be... uhh... gone for two weeks-" he hissed as Shinobu's free hand scraped nails down his back- "I need you. Respect your elder's wishes..."

"You'll come back quicker this way, old man" Shinobu teased, wrapping his legs around Miyagi's waist.

"I'll come back so fast the sun will have to catch me up."


	129. Smiling

This is Drabble No. 129!

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><p><span>Smiling<span>

So dawn was coming and Akihiko was lying there, in bed, in the dark, Misaki softly snoring next to him, and his nose was blocked, he could feel a sneeze coming on, and his head ached, and his shoulders ached and his entire body ached but he was smiling.

He was smiling because life had dealt him an incredible hand, two in fact, one of which was now resting on his silk-pyjama-clad stomach.

And now the fingers of that hand were clenching in slightly- was Misaki having a dream?- and his whole body felt like it was being tickled with love, with glee.

"You feel okay?" Misaki muttered, half-asleep. Akihiko dropped his hand on top of Misaki's and sniffed, stroking his fingers over the sensitive bones and veins, tracing the map, the treasure map, and the 'x' was the pulse that assured Akihiko his treasure was real, _really_ there. "I think you should go for the blue one, it's shinier, the bottle is ca... ca... ca..." And now Misaki was sleep-murmuring.

Akihiko sighed, staring up into the black ceiling.

Smiling.


	130. OVA

IMPORTANT JUNJOU ROMANTICA UPDATE, SPREAD THE WORD: AN OVA WAS RELEASED IN DECEMBER 2012 AND IS NOW AVAILABLE, WITH ENGLISH SUBS, ONLINE. YOUTUBE /watch?v=qa_flKcoA98&feature=player_embedded#! (the exclamation mark is part of the link, apparently the link is as excited as I am!)

THAT IS ALL =D


	131. Digging

This is drabble 130!

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><p><span>Digging<span>

_Summertime, _sung by Janis Joplin and Big Brother & The Holding Company- one of her greatest hits. That witchly screech, those soulful squeals and passionate squawks before the mother of all guitar solos that seemed to strum and tune _down there_.

The apartment was sweltering, the air conditioning having broken early in the night and Nowaki and I had done nothing about it. Sweltry between the sheets, almost unbearable, then cold water spurting from Evian bottles and laughter to accompany. It was almost repulsively romantic. Almost.

And now we were in the living room, the sinful Summer sun scorching through the half-open windows, air silken on our slow-dancing bodies. Nowaki was in his black track-suit bottoms and a tight black t-shirt, the sleeves showing off the swell of his strong arms and the material stretched so satisfyingly over his chest. I was wearing a white t-shirt and green boxers.

We soft-stepped side to side, warm foreheads touching, fingers twisting and slipping over one another's palms, our breathing moistening our lips. Our hips swayed so gently...

I took my hands from his and stroked down his torso and he shivered, smiling, his hands coming to rest just above my behind, fingers digging in just right, just so...


	132. Literally

This is drabble 131 (v. 2!)

EDIT: Many, many thanks to Temari 88 who took the trouble to correct me on my Italian. I shall write you any drabble you wish, as I can't do anything more, unless you think of something : ) So just message me a word or plot!

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><p><span>Literally<span>

"Mi piace molto vederti mangiare," Miyagi murmured across the table, predatory face golden by the flickering candle between us. The timbre of his voice travelled right down the valley of my hips.

"Huh?" I replied, mouth full of pasta and olive oil and cherry tomatoes and basil and parmesan and spinach and mushrooms and pepper. I was in food heaven. Italian. In Italy! Miyagi had treated me for my birthday.

"I said," Miyagi replied, smiling far too seductively for the outside world, as he inclined his head, "I really love to see you _eat_."

I blinked, chewed and swallowed, then- trying to keep my face as blank as possible- kicked him hard in the shin under the table.

"Stop it."

"Me! You're the one turning me on!" Miyagi cried, in Japanese. We had been enjoying the freedom of lewd speech in public but right then, I needed him to stop. My body had reacted hard and fast to Miyagi's words and tone. Literally.

"I can assure you that was not intentional," I retorted, bluntly.

"Fine, fine. Dine on," Miyagi sighed, exasperated.

Midway through dessert- the best strawberry gelato _ever_- I caught him eyeing it with devilish pleasure, completely ignoring his café tart. Next thing I knew, as I melted the ice cream in my mouth, Miyagi had called a waiter over.

"Lo scontrino, se volesse essere così gentile. E prenderemo il gelato da asporto, per favore." His charm was fascinating. He was so refined I ached.

"Certo," the waiter replied with a smile, taking my dessert.

I was practically buzzing with arousal. Miyagi had to thumb some melted ice cream from the corner of my mouth. He put his thumb in his mouth, smiling.

"What did you say?" I said, slightly dazed.

"We're leaving."

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><p>Translation of Miyagi's second Italian speech: The bill, if you would be so kind. And we will take the ice cream to go, please.<p> 


	133. Bam

This is drabble 132!

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><p><span>Bam<span>

"The first time Misaki kissed me in public was... hilarious," I said, rejoicing in the giggle it elicited from Aikawa.

"What happened?"

I sat back on the sofa and reminisced, unable to tame a giddy smile. Aikawa leaned forward, eyes excited and wide.

"We were in a club- one of those dark, strobe-light, too-much-noise-to-breathe affairs, you know- and Misaki had gone to the loo and I'd gone to the bar to get us drinks-"

"What were you wearing?" I blinked, enjoying the nostalgia and her interest, for once.

"Black suit, no tie, top button undone. Misaki: black suit, white shirt, top button done. Too cute... Anyway," I cleared my throat, "I'm getting the drinks when this guy barges in next to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I look down and it's this young guy, auburn hair, had that JPOP look, you know, boy band yada yada. And he throws me some spiel about him getting the drinks and us going to sit down somewhere to talk and get to know eachother. I was amused, flattered- he wasn't aggressive or anything, just young and I didn't want to discourage him from flirting when he seemed like he'd just started the game- so I smile-"

"And Misaki sees you?!"

"Wait. I realise, of course, that it wouldn't seem so innocent to Misaki if he saw me smiling down at some bright young thing, so I respectfully decline his invitation. But he insists. Just as I'm about to firmly put him in his place, Misaki appears at my side. I'm about to introduce him when- _bam__._"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that- hand on my neck, on tip-toes and everything and he marks me on my mouth with this... _kiss_."

"And the guy?"

"Don't know. Don't care. He was gone. And then Misaki and I were gone..."

Aikawa seems dreamy. Then, suddenly, she jerks and looks up at the clock.

"Damn, Usagi-sensei! We have to be gone now! Bad form for a groom to be late to his wedding!"

"Nonsense, isn't it traditional for the groom to be late?" But I stand anyway and adjust my tie...

And fantasise about my next public kiss.


	134. Act

This is drabble 133

Many, many thanks Temari 88, who took the trouble to correct me on my Italian in 'Literally'. The guilty drabble- and I- have been redressed. I shall write you any drabble you wish, as I can't do anything more, unless you think of something : ) So just message me a word or plot!

* * *

><p><span>Act<span>

_Nowaki_

The flowers were radiant. Butter-yellow sunflowers; cloud-cloven white roses; tiny, star-prick white ones; pursed purple irises and green-lipped lilies, not yet out of their buds. They sat out on the desk in the hospital's reception, singing to Nowaki it seemed, different notes as the sun skimmed different lights through the large windows in the waiting rooms.

They were so proud, so selflessly beautiful, beaming out a charitable smile to each passing patient, nurse or doctor, even the occasional highly-strung parent. As the day wore on, Nowaki absorbed their glory until his chest was tight with the glow of... he couldn't name it. The only word that sprung to mind was-

"Hiroki..."

"Pardon?"

Nowaki blinked and turned back to the parent he was consulting.

"Oh, excuse me. Yes, your son should be an outpatient by tomorrow." Nowaki tucked a pen into the top pocket of his white coat. "There are just tests that have to be quantified against our, well, my hypotheses."

"Will he be able to eat now?"

"Of course, to his heart's- and stomach's I'm sure- content!" Nowaki laughed and bowed to the now much more relieved father.

As the evening drew on, Nowaki all but counted down the seconds to the end of his shift. He checked in on a few recovering surgery patients, who all smiled bravely once Nowaki entered. He signed form after form of permission slips for prescriptions. He changed a simple hydration drip to an antibiotic drip for one child and took a canula out of a another.

Then it was six o'clock.

He held back his primal groan of relief all the way to the changing rooms on the basement floor. When he got there, it was straight to his locker, off with his coat and tie and shirt and-

"Nowaki..."

He whirled round, fresh t-shirt in hand. There in the doorway, under the heavy fluorescent lighting, stood his Hiroki wearing a brown leather jacket, jeans, trainers and-

"What's wrong?" Nowaki rushed towards Hiroki, t-shirt dropped, eyes fixed on a frown he'd never seen before. It was a scared frown, worried in both the emotional and physical sense- he'd bitten it so much it had bled on some parts.

_Hiroki_

At last, he was there in front of him, flesh and blood, muscle and bone. Nowaki's hands were on his arms, squeezing hard as though for an answer.

"What's wrong?"

Hiroki smelled sweat, fresh and forest-like. The scent was so soothing that he almost fell asleep on Nowaki's naked chest, so readily there as a pillow. But Nowaki shook him and repeated.

"Tell me, Hiro-san, what's wrong?"

"I... I threw up today..." He bristled and tried to shake Nowaki off but there was no use, so he stood up straight and tried to fight off his embarrassment. "I threw up and there was... there was blood."

Nowaki's eyebrows furrowed as his hand shot to Hiroki's neck and forehead, checking temperatures.

"Come," he said gruffly, yanking Hiroki to a bench and sitting him down. Hiroki sighed and swallowed, watching Nowaki march back to his locker and pull out a small flashlight and a stethoscope. He then came before Hiroki and sank down to the balls of his feet. "Mouth open, say 'ahh'... hm. Was it only once?" Nowaki asked, letting go of Hiroki's chin. Hiroki nodded. After checking him with a stethoscope, Nowaki let out a deep sigh and fell back to lean against a wall of lockers and stretch out his legs. "You had that cold a week or so ago, didn't you? Terrible coughing- any blood then?"

Hiroki stared at Nowaki, whose broad chest was still bare. He could just imagine Nowaki's marbled shoulders and thoughts of the sweep of his back swept Hiroki's thoughts immediately south. Nowaki's eyes were shadowed and his hair greasy.

He was gorgeous.

"Hiro-san!"

"Yeah, yes, there might've been a few dots then. But I so rarely throw up-"

"We had take-out last night, didn't we?"

"Yeah-"

"Food poisoning..." Nowaki muttered, raking a hand through his hair and sighing again. "How do you feel now?" Hiroki watched the motion of the tendons in Nowaki's neck.

"Nauseous. But fine aside from that."

"Okay," Nowaki said. Then, finally, Nowaki smiled."We'll go upstairs and get your blood pressure done, maybe a urine test, it's all routine. I wouldn't worry for the moment, no accelerated heartbeat from what I can hear, or murmur, and your temperature seems fine. No swelling."

Hiroki crossed his legs.

"Okay, so maybe swelling," Nowaki smirked, eyeing Hiroki's crotch.

"Shut up! I am not-"

"Jeeze, Hiro-san," Nowaki spoke, still on the ground, "just topless? Is that all I have to do?" he teased, grinning.

"No!" Hiroki barked. "The whole doctor act doesn't help either!"

Nowaki grinned some more. Hiroki shot up and kicked Nowaki in the shin.

"Get up."

"Already have."

"Baka! Come on, I want to get out of this place. I've made supper for you."

"Supper for me?" Nowaki bounced up and pressed his hands on Hiroki's shoulders as they ambled to the elevator.

"Supper for the yeti-moron who lives with me, yes."

"Yeti!" Nowaki cried as he pressed the button.

"You moult, _everywhere_." Nowaki breathed out a laugh and sidled right in front of Hiroki, who basked in Nowaki's warmth. "You're not wearing a shirt."

"Hm...?" Nowaki asked, angling slowly for a kiss (which Hiroki knew he wouldn't get anyway, due to Nowaki's awareness of the risk of contagion). "Oh! Be right back."

The elevator was on the 12th floor when he left and the 3rd when he got back.

"Quick changer," Hiroki remarked, absent-mindedly adjusting Nowaki's tie.

"Years of practise. My partner-in-love demands sex before work-"

Hiroki pulled the knot a little tighter than necessary as the elevator doors opened and Nowaki gulped comically. Two janitors and a nurse exited before Nowaki and Hiroki entered.

The doors pinged closed. Hiroki folded his arms and Nowaki leaned against a wall, ankles crossed and hands in the pockets of his white doctor coat.

Just before they reached the fourth floor, Nowaki leaned forward and tapped Hiroki on the flies of his jeans with his index finger.

"Come on then, sickie. Let's get you checked out."

The doors pinged open onto a bustling hospital floor.

"Keep that act up and I won't be the one who needs to be hospitalised," Hiroki hissed. Nowaki smirked and winked over his shoulder.


	135. Spark

This is drabble 134!

Temari88, I'm working on it ; )

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><p><span>Spark<span>

The backseat of the limo was cool under my thighs as Usagi-san pulled off my jeans and dropped them to the floor, leaving my boxers on. I scrunched my fingers on the leather as his tongue slid slowly up my neck, tingling everywhere as he gently pushed my jumper and shirt up. His fingers began to stroke, lightly, up and down, up and down my torso and his mouth landed behind my ear.

Then the white lights started flashing.

We'd just entered a long tunnel on the motorway and every time we passed underneath a light, Usagi-san's face sparked in the dark.

Sparked, as he clasped my head in his hands and kissed reverently down my throat.

Sparked, as he danced kisses down my torso, fingers teasing along the way, my hands grasping his silky, silver hair.

Sparked, as he cupped me _just so_, so gently, yet so devilishly, observing me with a lustful smile as I ached, unable to suppress a groan. I thanked the heavens for the sound-proof divider between us and the driver.

Sparked, as he began to- there was no other word for it- massage me _there_, over my boxers. My knees shot up then down as my spine arched up, hands subconsciously pushing Usagi-san's head down to my collarbone. He maintained his ministrations- slowly, steadily, softly as I strained- lips stroking along my shoulders, exploring the dip below my throat.

Sparked, as my thighs clenched his hips and I bit my lip as his thumb began to push and stroke at once.

Sparked, as my hands flew from his hair to his shirt and clenched tightly, feeling the vibrations of his low laugh.

There was no use resisting Usagi-san.

There was no use resisting the spark of a star.


	136. Previous

This is drabble 135!

Temari 88, this is for you - I hope you like!

Music recommendation (it's just so beautiful): Vaughan Williams: Five Variants of "Dives and Lazarus" ( youtube . com + /watch?v=NecUagtct4E) All the way through!

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><p><span>Previous<span>

"You know... you know Usagi, I-I mean, Usami-san?" Misaki stuttered. Hiroki, cradling a pile of books in his arms, blinked in shock with himself. Had he actually just said...

"Of course," Hiroki snapped, trying to back track. "We were in the same class."

"But that..." _That doesn't mean you know him "better than" I do_... Misaki thought.

"Look, Takahashi, I said I knew him better than you did only because I've known him longer. Therefore-" Hiroki continued, trying to reach their previous discussion- "I have a better perspective on his writing."

Misaki blushed and took a small step out of Hiroki's office, looking down at his shoes. _That wasn't what it sounded like. You called him Akihiko... so familiarly._

"Anyway, I think it would be a good idea to use one of Usami's books in your paper as long as you _understand _it. Looking at your previous analysis, it seems you still have a long way to go in terms of evaluation-"

"I know him very well, Kamijou-sensei," Misaki said, quietly.

Hiroki swallowed and gritted his teeth. He knew that. He knew the brat was Akihiko's new love-thing. Frankly, he found it both twisted and a little offensive that the younger brother of Akihiko's once 'true love' was the new beau. What did this stumbling doe have that he didn't? More to the point, what did Hiroki not have that the younger Takahashi did?

Hiroki's stomach sank as a crystalline memory glittered blue in mind. It was a caged memory, rarely let out from behind bars. Hiroki tried not to shiver, tightened his lip in his resolve. That was then. And he loved... there was a whole new world of love he had yet to explore with Nowaki. His love for Akihiko would last, but it was a primeval land now, off bounds.

Akihiko's hands would touch this kid every day...

And Akihiko was happy. Perhaps for the first time since Hiroki had known him, Akihiko was actually happy. The writing could evince that.

Hiroki dropped his books onto his desk, folded his arms and mirrored Misaki's stance. He pricked his tongue with his incisor tooth before swallowing his pride and saying-

"I know." He looked up as Misaki did. "I know you do." Hiroki grew stern. "Take advantage of that, a star only shoots down... a star only shoots down once."

Hiroki could see concern and sadness on Misaki's face, the likes that made his own heart clench- did Misaki have sympathy for him? Could he tell...

Hiroki cleared his throat.

"Right. I need to work Takahashi." Hiroki marched forward. "Thank you," he said awkwardly, unnecessarily. Then he shut the office door on Misaki, leaned against it and pulled out his mobile.

"Hiro-san? What's wrong-" came his lover's voice.

"Nothing's wrong, why does something have to be wrong!" Hiroki barked. He covered his eyes with his free hand. "What are you... up... to?"

Silence.

And then a tirade of enthusiasm and glee.

Yes, Hiroki thought, this is for me.


	137. Steam

This is drabble 136!

Please review if you enjoy... ; )

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><p><span>Steam<span>

Shinobu could see in the mirror above the basin that Miyagi had actually bitten his lip. It was a first.

And it was glorious.

Shinobu smirked at himself in the mirror, hands gripping the sides of the sink as steam rose around them. The extractor buzzed above them as the bath-taps gushed water.

"Oh, _god_, Shinobu!" Miyagi groaned, throat rough. He pushed deeper into Shinobu- slick and hot with lube- and scrunched his eyes shut. His fingers dug into Shinobu's waist and he angled himself slightly, ground deep, then picked up a strong, steady rhythm.

"_Guh_!" Shinobu arched his back and began to pant. One of Miyagi's hands smoothed up Shinobu's spine, moist and warm with sweat, as a foot nudged Shinobu's ankle to further part his legs.

"You like this, don't you?" Miyagi half-chided. "Making a mess of me."

"Making a mess of _you_?" Shinobu pined, hips undulating in response to Miyagi's fingers, which were stroking and rubbing his ear. He constricted instinctively around Miyagi as the man leaned forward and pressed sweet, hot kisses down the back of his neck, blowing softly on the tiny hairs, making Shinobu shiver.

"You're a bad boy," Miyagi spoke lowly, squeezing Shinobu's waist as he reared back up and began to drive faster. It was Shinobu's turn to bite his lip. His palms slipped on the sink edges as the pressure of the pleasure increased- tightening, hardening, strengthening, concentrating.

"Please..." Shinobu moaned. "Miya-"

"Uh! What do you call me?"

"Sensei," Shinobu hissed and exhaled at once, bowing forwards and pressing his searing forehead on the cool mirror.

"Good boy," Miyagi praised, pushing and pulling harder and faster as his large hand came round and gently squeezed Shinobu. The uke made a high, sacrificial sort of sound.

They were in Shinobu's parents' house. Or, they were in Miyagi's boss' house. Either and both ways, they weren't doing what they were supposed to be doing. It was early in the morning, two o'clock perhaps, and they were in a separate wing away from Shinobu's father, the dean. All the teachers from the university had been invited to a formal dinner the night before to celebrate the end of term, the upcoming Summer holidays and the excellent results from end-of-year exams. Some had stayed the night.

Shinobu had spent the entire evening calling Miyagi Sensei, driving him crazy, passing him seasoned tuna as his foot glided up his calf and thigh under the long table...

Miyagi leaned forward, pausing his pounding for a moment to whisper, "I want you to squeeze in time with me now, understand?"

Shinobu bit his lip tighter- it stung- and he nodded his head quickly. He knew it would only take a matter of moments from there. Miyagi's hand began to rapidly jerk him off as he fiercely drove into his lube-lushed behind, which obeyed his Sensei's command. Miyagi's free hand stroked up Shinobu's throat and his fingers begged entrance to Shinobu's mouth, which acquiesced immediately. Miyagi tasted of honey and salt and cum. He throbbed intensely inside of him and Shinobu knew that one action from him would send the professor tumbling in ecstasy. Shinobu was desperate for the pulsing that would ensue inside him and the pleasure Miyagi was currently gifting was almost becoming blinding, almost painful. It was at a fever-pitch.

Time for the move.

Shinobu bit on Miyagi's thumb and the seme groaned in bliss and relief, climaxing powerfully as his uke sucked on his thumb and quivered around him, cumming and trembling as his heart raced and his breath hitched in his throat. Shinobu moaned, gripping Miyagi's hand which had shot to his own, as his orgasm kept going. Shinobu whimpered, quietly. His legs weakened and almost gave way before Miyagi's strong arm bound around his waist and held him sturdily.

They panted heavily together for a minute, Miyagi twitching inside of Shinobu before gently pulling out. Shinobu winced, sensitive, and sighed as Miyagi held him under his arms and sluggishly marched him to the bath.

They stepped into the hot water, Shinobu slipping down as Miyagi turned off the taps. Miyagi fell in behind Shinobu.

They rested for a period before both breaking into a fit of quiet giggles and chuckles.

"Where are my smokes..." Miyagi muttered, smiling as he looked around.

"In your room," Shinobu grumbled, swatting Miyagi's searching hand and resting his cheek on his partner's happy chest.


	138. Thou

This is drabble 136!

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and happy reviews, the last drabble seemed to go down especially well! I know I am awful at replying, I come on here for such a short period. I will get back to all of you a.s.a.p. : )

For now, I hope this short drabble suffices!

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><p><span>Thou<span>

The bedroom was fresh, the window open a portion, letting bird-song swim daintily on the breeze with the scent of minty aftershave.

In the bright white daylight, Miyagi sat upright in their king-sized bed, wearing only his blue cotton pyjama bottoms. His legs were in a figure of four, right foot touching the knee of his straight left leg and there were papers scattered all over the rumpled duvet. He was focused on both editing a lecture and marking essays.

Shinobu stood in the doorway unnoticed, he thought, appraising the man before him; the man who had looked so delectable as he had shaved this morning, glancing at and speaking to Shinobu in the mirror as Shinobu sat on the edge of the bathtub; the man whose broad shoulders and chest and subtly ridged abs sent a warm swoon whirling down Shinobu's spine.

"Miyagi..." Shinobu cooed, wanting.

"Mm...?" Miyagi replied, not seeming surprised at Shinobu's presence.

Shinobu swallowed and licked his dry lips, trying to muster courage.

He padded awkwardly forward on the soft carpet before bringing a knee to the edge of the bed. Then his palms fell and crumpled two pieces of paper. And then he was moving, no, crawling towards Miyagi, his behind swung coquettishly up in the air.

"Miyagi," he repeated, more nervously. The professor twiddled his red biro but did not look up, though Shinobu thought he spied a slight smirk.

"Yes, you insatiable whelp?" He was half-deprecating. Shinobu wrapped a hand round Miyagi's ankle and bit his lip in anxiety before taking a deep breath and quavering the whisper,

"_O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?_"

It obviously worked.

Miyagi tapped his pen on the piece of paper he was holding before glancing up. He was touched, not merely by the use of the Shakespearean quote which was accessible enough, but by Shinobu's effort to woo him with literature. Furthermore, he appreciated the pains Shinobu must have gone to to build the confidence to seduce him so provocatively. He felt worshipped. He cocked his head to the side, practically tasting Shinobu's adrenaline.

"Oh, you're Romeo, are you?" Miyagi smiled, broadening his shoulders and grinning. Shinobu's hand gripped tighter and he stuttered, still on all fours.

"Er, well, I mean, we both are, aren't we-"

Miyagi hummed out a laugh, leaning forward and pressing his thumb on Shinobu's chin.

"Quite, my little rose. Quite."

Shinobu's blush bloomed fittingly, red-cheeked and pink-eared.

"_Such war of white and red within _his_ cheeks!_" Miyagi whispered against Shinobu's hot ear, his knuckles stroking Shinobu's cheek, fingers dancing down his neck's taut tendons. "I think we're more _Taming of the Shrew_ than _Romeo and Juliet_, my love."

Miyagi's murmurings buzzed over Shinobu's skin and he shivered, letting out a kittenish mewl. Miyagi pulled back and rested his forehead on Shinobu's, smiling with darkly lustful eyes. "_What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty as those two eyes become that heavenly face?_" Shinobu whimpered and inched forward, harbouring for a kiss, face wrought with intense agony. "_Fair lovely maid_..."

"I am not a maid!" Shinobu suddenly erupted and was about to fight his case, humiliated as he was, before Miyagi sprang forward and pinned him down. Shinobu gasped and gulped at once, making him splutter, as his hands pushed up on Miyagi's chest. The older man's strength, the demonstration of it as he would not budge with that oh-so-smug smirk, only made Shinobu yearn more.

"Mm, we have made sure of that, haven't we... come now," Miyagi spoke, lowering himself onto his elbows and allowing Shinobu to feel his pressing arousal, "_graze my lips_..." Miyagi stroked Shinobu's parted, wet lips. "Your mouth is mine, these are mine... _my cherry lips_..."

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><p>"<em>O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?<em>" and the 'rose' reference - _Romeo + Juliet_

_"_Such war of white and red within __his [originally _her_]__ cheeks!_"; _What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty as those two eyes become that heavenly face?_"; "_Fair lovely maid_..." - The Taming of the Shrew_

_"_graze my lips_..." - Venus and Adonis_

"[...]__ my cherry lips_..." - A Midsummer Night's Dream_

**All the work of William Shakespeare~ incalculable gratitude for the benevolent workings of his star-dipped quill which has so bewitched centuries of generations. Happy 449th birthday to the Bard!**


	139. Burrow

This is drabble 137!

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and happy reviews, the last drabble seemed to go down especially well! I know I am awful at replying, I come on here for such a short period. I will get back to all of you a.s.a.p. : )

For now, I hope this will do!

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><p><span>Burrow<span>

Misaki could feel it building, feel the angst thud like a brick onto the dining table. They were at the Usami household for Usagi-san's father's birthday. Misaki had persuaded him to go, as the elder Usami was getting frail in his old age and it was unlikely more than another birthday would come along to celebrate.

There were enough rank and file to fill the room so the attention wasn't solely on the Usami clan. Business partners, chairmen, family friends, wealthy contacts- at least sixty people wined and dined, filling the spring-breezed room with chinks, clinks and empty laughter.

But Misaki could still feel it: the tension, the anxiety rolling off Usagi-san.

Misaki did not completely know what sparked Usagi-san's fuse, but he had some idea. The relationships in the Usami family were estranged to say the least so any gathering was strained. But more than that, socialising was one of Usagi-san's biggest fears. Misaki knew from first-hand experience that whilst on the outside the man was radiant, inside he was curdling and occasions such as this actually made him more than quite unwell.

He glanced next to him and watched as Usagi-san's knuckles dug above his eye-sockets; as his jaw clenched; as his eyes bloomed to shock limit, to overload. He was in distress.

"Hey," Misaki whispered under his breath. Then, making sure no one was paying attention to them, he tentatively rested a hand and stroked his thumb on Usagi-san's knee, trying to stop the minute nervous bouncing. "Calm, Usagi-san. This'll all be over soon, okay? We can go home and I'll cook you those boiled eggs on toast you were talking about... you know, that meal you used to have in England?"

Usagi-san breathed in very deeply and his hands dropped from his face, his eyes relaxing slightly as his knee stopped bobbing.

"Boiled eggs and toasted soldiers..." Usagi-san murmured.

"Yeah! Okay?" Misaki whispered.

Usagi-san swallowed and started to pace his breathing. He nodded.

Rabbits are shy creatures with most, easily stressed, easy to panic. Find them a nice burrow away from everything else, close enough to good food, and it helps their heads. Find them a mate- another solitary rabbit, who puts the hop in their bounce and knows just how to put the fluff in their tail- and it helps their hearts.


	140. Sharpish

This is drabble 138!

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and happy reviews, I know I am awful at replying, I come on here for such a short period. I will get back to all of you a.s.a.p. : )

**Lee** I will get back to here, because I cannot reply otherwise: Thank you SO much, it put a proper smile on my face to read your praise and I am so happy you enjoy my writing and my characterisation ^.^ I put a great deal of effort into the characters, so it helps to read it's paying off. Many thanks, I hope you enjoy the future drabbles.

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><p><span>Sharpish<span>

"So, you have how many lessons with him?" Usagi-san managed to ask as he devoured my throat, his fingers blossoming around my neck. I shivered, words and thoughts getting stuck, getting put on hold, whilst my mind and body focused on absorbing as much pleasure as possible. "Hmm...?" Usagi-san's voice buzzed on my skin and I pushed myself harder against the wall of the cupboard.

He'd arrived at the University to speak to Kamijou-sensei, who he had known since childhood I had recently learned. On his way to the Humanities Department, he'd spotted me speaking to Hideo, a guy I'd befriended in the canteen last year. Of course, Usagi-san didn't see 'friend' or even 'student'.

He saw opponent.

When I'd spied him- long black coat and long dark glare, a statue in the business of the inter-lecture hallway- I'd marched off sharpish, only to be cornered into a large cupboard in an empty hallway a minute later.

"Usagi-san..." my mouth permitted, as my hands scrunched on his shirt. His breath warmed the skin under my jaw before he sucked and I gritted my teeth to defeat a moan.

Suddenly, my phone rang in my pocket, signifying the start of a lecture and startling us both. I pushed Usagi-san off and surprisingly he relented, panting slightly as I silenced my phone and slung on my satchel.

"I have to go."

By the light of my phone in my hand I could see Usagi-san nod, clenching his jaw before smirking and shooting a glance to my trousers.

"What're you going to do about that?"

I fantasised about being able to walk down the hallway and into the lecture hall without having my prominent erection noticed. It was just that: a fantasy. Unrealistic.

"I-"

Usagi-san was already on it.


	141. My

This is drabble 139!

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and happy reviews, I know I am awful at replying, I come on here for such a short period. I will get back to all of you a.s.a.p. : )

* * *

><p><span>My<span>

I was so dazed it was unbelievable. Like, actually, inconceivable. I don't know how I made it from the hospital to the door of the apartment, but through the blackout of that night I did. When the door opened, Hiro-san looked at me like I was a zombie. I felt like one.

"Idiot, you can't even put the key in the lock!" Hiro-san barked under his breath, snatching the key from my heavy hand before yanking my satchel off me and pushing me inside. The feel of his hand between my aching shoulder-blades was so soothing I almost dropped onto the floor to fall asleep there and then. "Are you awake enough to eat?" he grumbled, as I leaned against the hallway wall and he undid my shoelaces. He looked up as he slipped off one sneaker and saw me shake my head. He sighed. "Okay."

With an arm around my waist he helped me to our room, making sure I didn't collapse as he switched on the nightlight and settled me onto the bed. He undid my belt, my zippers, pulled off my jeans. He undid my shirt buttons. In my t-shirt and boxers, I was tucked under the covers, lying on the warm side where Hiro-san had been sleeping.

Then my Hiro-san lay down next to me and stroked my hair with a scowl on my face I didn't have to open my eyes to see.

"You're... you have to be careful with yourself, Nowaki... you're very precious to... people."

I fell unconcious, dozing off from the dream of life...


	142. Just

This is drabble 140!

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and happy reviews, I know I am awful at replying, I come on here for such a short period. I will get back to all of you a.s.a.p. : )

www . rainymood . com - listen whilst reading, I did whilst writing.

Um... it would be really good if I could hear from you guys if you especially enjoyed something or didn't like something in this drabble. I'm a little uncertain of parts...

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><p><span>Just<span>

Even the rain was applauding. It resonated on the floor-to-ceiling windows- sending shots of silver through the moonlight- encouraging Misaki as much as I wanted to but was refraining from; he was easily spooked.

I blinked as I sat on the edge of the sofa, the living room bathing in nighttime shadows decorated with the red, orange and green flickers of road activity. I watched, smiling, exuding calm, as he kneeled before me, taking deep breaths. He shuffled forward, swallowing, clenching his jaw, biting the inside of his lip.

I was a moth to all his flickering and could not resist kissing him. I leaned forward, palms skimming his cheeks as I brushed my lips on his and stared deep into his wary eyes. It seemed to strengthen him, because he pushed back my chest before settling his shaky hands on my knees and easing them apart.

I leaned back on my hands and let my neck fall back, watching the swimming lights of a city night reflect on my ceiling. I closed my eyes as soon as I felt his fingers and nails draw gingerly up my black jeans, pausing often. I swallowed a moan that turned into a rough breath. Tiny shooting stars fizzed up my legs, it felt like, right in my blood stream.

He'd told me he was going to do this, that he wanted to do this. It would be his first time. I had to learn patience...

Drip, drip, patter, patter- the rain glittered on.

I could hear his breathing- gentle, rhythmic percussion- and swallowed down another moan as his paws clutched my thighs and his thumbs stroked from inner to outer. I couldn't help but tense, my cock warming, the first pulsations buzzing through.

There was no movement for a long while, but I took steady breaths and resumed staring at the ceiling. Then, as distant thunder rolled over in the aching clouds, he whispered,

"Don't do anything. I can do this... just..." _Just give me time; just have patience; just... just_. My heart panged at how worried he sounded and I was yearning to tell him no matter what he did I would be happy, I would be ecstatic. But I had been commanded not to do anything. So I waited.

The thunder drove closer as car-lights became rarer and rarer and as night deepened and the rain burgeoned on, he moved.

I felt four fingers press my crotch as other fingers unzipped my flies. Want twinged in my shoulder and shivered down my back before blooming at the base of my spine as more fingers stroked over my boxers. My hips rolled up, inviting. I so badly wanted to direct, but I had been given orders. _Just..._

The rain took a big sigh then increased as Misaki pulled down my jeans, then rather quickly returned to my boxers, attacking them like a band-aid. I held back a laugh and grinned to myself, feeling his anxiety. My grin widened as I heard his gasp as I sprung out. After all this time and he was still surprised...

He cleared his throat. I licked my lips, deliberately not looking at him, urging myself not to. We had never gotten this far before. He had attempted... but always faltered.

His cool breath caught my skin and shivers multiplied down my spine, snatching back my awareness.

I heard him shuffle forward again, his hot hands gripping above my knees before he realised he needed them. I heard his clothes rustle as he kneeled up. Then his fingers were _on_ me. It was harder to swallow my moan that time, it was coarse in my throat as his cool breath became warmer as he inched closer. I took a deep breath, preparing for more stillness, before suddenly feeling his tongue-tip- hot, wet arrow- touch me mid-shaft.

One clammy hand fell on my thigh as the other clutched the base of my cock and suddenly he was licking upwards, just with the tip of that arrow-tongue, sending a hot ribbon of pleasure spiralling through me. The novelty and the surprisingly good motion of tongue arrested me. He paused again at the head before taking a nervous breath.

I wondered whether he was trying to recall exactly how I did it.

The wider portion of his tongue slipped round the head, not touching the top, as his hand squeezed, slick saliva making me more sensitive, making me hiss quietly as he passed my frenulum... A low, quiet groan escaped me.

His hand clamped tighter and I pulsed hard, one of his fingers tapping my balls inadvertently. My eyebrows knitted, yearning to talk, to speak but-

"Tell me... how..." His voice vibrated on me and I groaned before throwing my head up, grinning at him-

Then beginning my instruction.


	143. Tilted

This is drabble 141!

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and happy reviews, I know I am awful at replying, I come on here for such a short period. I will get back to all of you a.s.a.p. : )

* * *

><p><span>Tilted<span>

_And that's how it will be:  
>You with her,<br>I with me.  
>Oh what a pretty family,<br>Just. Us. Three._

Misaki looked up from the poem that had been left amongst other papers on the living room table and watched as Usagi-san attempted to make coffee for himself.

"This is... it's about Takahiro, isn't it?" Misaki asked, quietly.

"Hm?" Usagi-san turned round as he dropped a sugar cube into his glass.

"This-" Misaki gestured to the poem with a semi-sad smile- "You wrote this about Takahiro and Manami. Didn't you?"

Usagi-san gently tilted his head and folded his arms as the kettle boiled.

"That may have been part of the inspiration, yes."

"You really wanted to be a family with him, didn't you?" Misaki had to work hard to keep the surprising venom from his voice. Usagi-san's face was etched with a mixture of pain, confusion and curiosity.

"I didn't know what that meant. At the time, yes, I wanted to be with him. But the meaning of 'family'- and 'love' actually... those words have changed. You're my love, my family."

Misaki dropped the piece of paper, made a sound that was vaguely like 'whatever', before slouching up the stairs to his room.

An hour later, Misaki's mobile buzzed, interrupting his revision. Still grumpy, his picked it up and flipped it open, only to read:

_You're my family, my love-  
>You.<br>My song, my dance, my poetry too._

Misaki felt his heart bloom and sing.

A minute later, Usagi-san received a text back:

_Idiot x_


	144. Service Part 1

This is drabble 142!

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and happy reviews, I know I am awful at replying, I come on here for such a short period. I will get back to all of you a.s.a.p. : )

* * *

><p><span>Service- Part 1<span>

She was distraught. Mascara wilting around her dripping eyes, Aikawa-san had her fiery hair wrenched up into a bun as she wept, sitting on the edge of the sofa. She gulped down sobs as she tried to stop.

All Misaki could do for a few moments was sit opposite, stone-still. If Akihiko had been there he would have snapped her right of it. It was painful to watch so cheery a character crumbling.

"It's- just- never- going- to- h-happen," she stuttered, pulling a handkerchief from her handbag. "I'm so-so sorry, Misaki-kun... it's just-" she hiccuped- "sort of- rushing over me- n-now."

Misaki jumped out of his mini-shock and dashed to the kitchen and returned a moment later, sitting next to Aikawa-san and offering her a glass of water. She took it and thanked him under her breath, spluttering a little at first. Soon, her breathing steadied. She scrutinised her hands in her lap, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. It's just been... a little rough lately. It feels like I'm never going to find someone. Then I see you and Usami-sensei... I just... I feel so lonely."

Misaki put a hand on Aikawa-san's back, but looked away so as not to humiliate her.

"It'll happen, Aikawa-san. You're... you're so strong and determined, kind, intelligent... and really beautiful."

"Ahh, Misaki-kun-" Aikawa rushed, flinching away with a self-depricating laugh and smile- "you don't have to say that."

"I'm not just saying that. It's true. When I... when Usagi-san and I first... well- I was really jealous. Seriously jealous. I was so convinced he'd be with you or, or have you and I was just some... I don't know. But you're awesome enough that I felt..." Misaki rolled his eyes at himself, attempting fluency and failing. But apparently his inadequacy helped a little bit because Aikawa touched him on the shoulder and gave him a genuine smile.

"Thank you very much, Misaki-kun. That's very sweet of you. But someone like Usami-sensei would never look at me like that."

The door buzzer buzzed.

"Speak of the devil," Misaki said under his breath, before sending a smile back at Aikawa and going to the intercom. "Remember your bloody keys, idiot."

"Why do I need to when you're in?" Akihiko droned.

"I might be busy! Doing... important stuff!"

"Pfft. Let me in, sex of mine."

"Shhh! Aikawa-san's here."

"So."

"Arrgh."

Misaki pressed the button and then turned back to Aikawa.

"I'm fine, Misaki-kun. Really."

Misaki felt at a loss. He realised he really didn't want Aikawa to be alone.

"I'd really love it if you stayed for dinner," he said, as formally as he could.

"Oh, no, really, Misaki-"

"I've already made too much food, you'd be doing me a service."

Aikawa fiddled with her glass for a moment before smiling and nodding her head as the door opened. As Akihiko entered, Aikawa draw the backs of her thumbs under her eyes.

"I'm just going to use your bathroom for a moment," she said quietly, before heading upstairs.

"What's wrong with her?" Akihiko asked, dropping a paper bag on the living room table. Misaki considered saying nothing, before an idea struck him.

"I need you to do something for me."


	145. Service Part 2

This is drabble 143!

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and happy reviews, I know I am awful at replying, I come on here for such a short period. I will get back to all of you a.s.a.p. : )

I really liked the suggestions, guesses and responses people had to Part 1. I really hope Part 2 doesn't disappoint.

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><p><span>Service- Part 2<span>

Dinner passed by amicably and was followed by a light-hearted discussion on Misaki's future career prospects and a seedling of an idea for a novel. Aikawa cleared the table with a much better smile on her face, though her eyes were still rather forlorn. Then she said that she should be off before it got too dark.

Misaki gave Akihiko a look.

Akihiko sighed, cleared his throat and threw out his most charming smile for Aikawa to catch.

"Would you like a ride home?"

"Oh, no, Usami-sensei, you've already-" Aikawa began, slipping her arms into her coat.

"Please- I insist," Akihiko interrupted, in such a specially low voice that it sent a thrill down the centre of Misaki's chest as he set to loading the dishwasher. He was fairly certain it had the same effect on Aikawa, because she was lost for words as Akihiko helped her with her coat then spun his Porsche keys on his index finger. "Be back in a minute."

"Mmhmm," Misaki hummed out, hoping Akihiko would execute his plan just right. It was going to be a delicate matter.

In the elevator, Aikawa and Akihiko were quiet, standing and staring at the doors. As it was reaching ground level, Akihiko focused his mind on his promise to Misaki, assuming a prouder stature. He broadened his shoulders and pushed out his chest a little, tucking his hands in his trouser pockets as the doors pinged open.

He let Aikawa exit the elevator first and for a brief moment considered checking her out- it would only help.

She was attractive enough, hair prettily tangled down her back, hips musical in their natural provocation. She was a most voluptuous-

_Vase._ Akihiko reprimanded himself- he had one job and if it went well, he would receive quite another. That was the selfish side of the bargain. Selflessly, he loved Aikawa- he really did- and he felt sure Misaki was right: this could help.

Aikawa's heels echoed clips around the garage and Akihiko smirked as he followed her. Yes- he could be attracted to this, if only for a moment.

Aikawa went to open the door of the red Porsche sat right at the back, in the shadows, but Akihiko stopped her.

"Wait," he called. She turned, red lips popped, dusky blue eyes wide. _Eri Aikawa_, Akihiko thought, _the girl who saved me. More than once. My friend._

Mission in mind, Akihiko sidled up to Aikawa and stood so his chest was practically pressed against Aikawa's cheek. She instinctively flinched back a little, but Akihiko gently caught her soft face in one hand to steady her. He inhaled before he spoke, enjoying the smoky vanilla scent he usually associated with work.

"U-Usami-sensei, wha-"

"You should know," Akihiko murmured, eyes fixed on Aikawa's lips, "that I have permission for this." His thumb stroked over Aikawa's lower lip and a tiny tremble coursed through her as her breathing halted. "You should also know that this is not out of pity." He aligned his hips with Aikawa's and softly exhaled a warm breath over her face. "And you should know," he whispered now, most conspiratorially, "that if I was straight, you would be my first and only."

And he kissed her. Not a simple brush of the lips, nor a passionate claiming, but somewhere more than comfortably in between. A strong arm embraced Aikawa around her lower back as fingers stroked into her hair, making her scalp and neck tingle electrically. She was shocked and stiff at first- reluctant- but once she settled into it, she was lost in the dream of Lord Usami Akihiko. Her hands clutched at the back of his silk waist-coat as he cradled her head and neck with one hand, still securing her so tightly to him with the other. His lips suddenly captured a spot on the hairline of her upper-lip- which she had tried for ten minutes to cover-up with concealer that morning- but it felt too good, too warm, to resist him then. They could both taste the faint zing of ginger and sweet juice of tomato from dinner on eachother's lips.

Aikawa knew what this was: it was a gesture, a precious perk-you-up between friends and knowing the one-off nature of it made it that much more wonderful. It was slow, sensuous, enough to send her heart racing gloriously. She felt loved, she was loved.

And Akihiko was hot.

She laughed quietly into the kiss and she felt Akihiko laugh back as his fingers stroked softly around the shells of her ears. This was the girl who'd understood his writing immediately, who'd backed him up, defended him, worked with him tirelessly through depression and euphoria; who'd cleared up the ashtrays when things with Misaki were tough, who'd welcomed Misaki instantly; who'd sung his praises relentlessly; who'd shared a drink with him on the roof on more than one occassion; who'd been the only one to remember his birthday on more than one occassion. They'd known eachother years, probably lifetimes.

Eventually, Akihiko drew back, squeezed Aikawa's shoulders and grinned.

"You should know by now, as well, that I don't go out of my way for the sake of it. I wouldn't have if you weren't one thousand percent worth it. He or she will come along, trust me- you're too much of a treasure for Fate to waste. Here," Akihiko pressed his car keys in Aikawa's palm. "Have some fun, would you? Return the car next week. Consider it a down-payment for future editing. I'm off."

Aikawa beamed at Akihiko as- most uncharacteristically- he turned and mock-saluted her as he strode away.

Akihiko felt rather proud of himself as he took his shoes off in the hallway then mooched to the door. Upon opening it, he was pounced upon from the left and kissed most fervently. Akihiko laughed in his throat as he caught Misaki and turned him to sit on the drawers by the door.

"Yes, I'm still yours, young one," Akihiko murmured, forehead falling against Misaki's.

"Oh, shut up... did it go okay?" he asked, leaning against the wall and dangling his legs by Akihiko's hips.

"Well- I'm straight."

Akihiko received a clip on the ear.

"Seriously."

"_Nada_."

"Hm?"

"Nothing. But it was pleasant enough. She enjoyed it."

"Well, you must have enjoyed it yourself, on some level," Misaki muttered, mindlessly untucking Akihiko's shirt.

"Hmmm..." Akihiko hummed against Misaki's neck, which arched as arms draped over Akihiko's shoulders. "It was a basement to heaven, I suppose."


	146. Talented Part One

Drabble No. 144

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><p><span>Talented Part One<span>

Akihiko's mind was grey.

The air was grey.

Life was grey.

Slouching to his bed, he pulled his laptop onto his thighs, opened it up and Internet surfed for a while.

It was all very...

He sighed.

He closed the laptop.

He sat in darkness and listened to the faint swoosh of cars outside.

Misaki had been gone for three weeks. _Three. Weeks._

Some epic anime convention marathon...

Akihiko slid down the headboard of the bed and found himself nestled on Suzuki-san's leg. He played with the tassle of the bear's messily knotted ribbon.

Then sighed again.

...

...

...

...

Akihiko's mind was grey.

The air was grey.

Life was-

_PINGPING_. _PINGPING_.

Like a jack-in-the-box, Akihiko sprang up and grabbed his vibrating phone from the bedside table, holding it like it was the Holy Grail.

**Two New Messages**.

Two. Two!

He tapped and swiped until the messages appeared.

No. 1: **_I need you so much. I can almost feel your pulse inside me. Starving for you._**

Shivers flared up Akihiko's shoulders and neck as he checked about a bazillion times whether it was indeed from Misaki. Adrenaline blazing the fire under his heart (and elsewhere), Akihiko hurried onto the next text.

No. 2: **_I need your mouth on my__ throat._**

Something unlocked inside Akihiko- his eyes hooded, his lips parted and he swallowed. The world was colourful once more, fiery and hot. Was this real? Had Akihiko reached the stage of hallucination? His thumbs hovered over the touch-screen keyboard, tongue grazing against his upper-right canine. Just as he was about to formulate a reply, another one came.

No. 3: **_I just need you to push me against the wall and take me quick and fast. Hard. Can you do that for_ _me_?**

A rare and unfamiliar sensation washed over Akihiko: nerves. Gingerly, he replied. He felt like this wasn't real, couldn't be, wouldn't be...

He typed- **_I can do slow and steady for you - my quick, fast and hard tends to knock you out, my love, and from so far away I don't think that would be safe. Where are you?_**

Tense minutes passed. Then,

No. 4: _**Silver Linings **__**Bar. Toilets. They're surprisingly clean! **_

Oh. Akihiko gritted his teeth. He was both annoyed- at realising Misaki must be drunk- and relieved- at having an idea where he was. About an hour or two away.

They'd reached a level in their relationship- six years in- where Akihiko's faith in Misaki was secure. Although he felt a need to drive and save Misaki, he didn't. Not yet.

He called him.

"Yello?" Misaki sounded dazed and giggly. There was a muted drum-and-bass beat in the background.

"It's me."

"Oooh, it's yooou! Where are you? Seriously-" Misaki began to whisper- "I'm really horny." He began to giggle and Akihiko thought he heard him slide down a panel and sit down.

"I can tell." Akihiko smiled, circling his index-finger on top of his thumb pad, imagining something to roll. Or pinch.

"Ahhoooh, you're not angry. No fun. Come on, where's the fury, the dominance?"

Akihiko's chest was radiating with a proud sort of glee.

"I need you to do something for me, Misaki," Akihiko spoke gently.

"Bad boy, tell me what a bad boy I am! Yeah, tell me you're going to punish-"

"Misaki."

"Blindfold me, bring out that paddle thing-"

"Misaki!" Akihiko interrupted, a little sterner.

"Whaat?"

"I need you to stand up for me." Akihiko heard him comply, with a little stumble. "Okay?"

"I'm up. In more ways than-"

"Now I need you to walk to the door with the circular window in it. See it?"

"Umm... yeah."

"Walk through that one, it'll take you straight up to the suites. Stay on the line as you go through and take the elevator to the eighth floor. Stay on the line, you hear me?"

"I hear you. You know your bossiness is just making me-"

"I know. Just do as I say, I'm going to call Silver Linings and get you a room."

A couple of minutes later, Akihiko had elevator music in one ear and a friendly receptionist in the other.

"And what name will the room be under, Sir?"

"Usami-Takahashi," Akihiko replied, pushing his silver wedding band around his finger.

"Oooh, that's sexy," Misaki groaned in his other ear. Akihiko pursed his lips and smirked before giving his bank details to the receptionist. Eventually, Akihiko was left alone with Misaki again.

"What floor is the elevator on now?"

"Five. It's really slow!"

"It's a new technology. Safer." He knew this because his brother had partly designed Silver Linings and thanks to Misaki, he was now on actual speaking terms with his older sibling.

"Slooooow." Pause. "You know, we've only done it in an elevator four times and only in ours, really..."

"Elevators do it for you, huh?" Pause. "What would you do to me if I was there?" Akihiko was taking advantage of the Uninhibited Misaki.

"Ummm... you'd be wearing a suit, a tux! And I'd get you to corner me."

"How?"

"I dunno... probably warn you not to dare to try have sex with me in an elevator. Denial is pretty much a sure-fire guarantee with you."

Akihiko laughed as the elevator doors pinged open.

"Walk to the desk, Misaki and hand me to the receptionist."

Once all was clarified and Misaki had a keycard and was stumbling to his room, Akihiko began to get ready. Mobile pressed between ear and shoulder, he slid on some jeans and pulled on a fitted black t-shirt, practically skipping downstairs to get his wallet and keys, keeping Misaki conscious all the while.

"So I've cornered you, now what?"

"You'd probably pull some stunt with your hands. Either, you know, gently on my face or that move."

"What move?"

"The one where you gets my legs round your waist faster than I can blink."

"Oh, that one," Akihiko chuckled. "Let's go with that one."

"Well, I'd kiss you and you'd overwhelm me with your ridiculously talented tongue and your shadow would somehow keep me warm as you loomed over and nipped my neck... then you'd undo my shirt buttons with your teeth, collar first..." Akihiko paused in his movement, admittedly a little stunned at how arousing Misaki was like this, how creative. He sounded sleepy, but high too. It was intoxicating. "And your jacket would have to come off as you start to grind and your arms..." Misaki sighed and Akihiko smirked, continuing to get ready. It had been established that Misaki was more than a little attracted to Akihiko's arms. Subtle strength impressed him. "Anyway, your fingers would be busy undoing me, hypnotising me to the point where I just have to bite your ear-lobe." Akihiko had to restrain a groan as he shut the door to the condo. _God_ he loved it when Misaki did that. More so when he then- "And then your neck as I pull your hair because you're killing me with your tongue on my throat."

Akihiko had to actually swallow saliva.

"Are you at your room?" he asked- he needed to cool down.

"Yeah, I'm in, I'm sitting on the bed." Misaki was beginning to sound drowsier. "Where are you?"

"Right next to you. Fall asleep and I'll be there."


	147. Talented Part Two

Drabble No. 145

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><p><span>Talented Part Two<span>

The suite was bathed in darkness, shadows swindling Akihiko of his sight momentarily as he snuck in. He'd already slipped off his shoes outside the room so he was able to creep over the carpet quite silently, then shuffle under the duvet covers of the occupied bed.

It was warm in there, a cocoon of toasty heat that was addictive, especially once Akihiko's arms were wrapped around the source.

Waking up just then was like rewinding sinking for Misaki. Time spilled over him slowly as he felt Akihiko's nose in his hair and his breath on the back of his neck. Then hands on his chest and ankles locking his own.

"Misaki..." Akihiko whispered, sending shivers spiralling down Misaki's spine. Misaki semi-moaned in response, blinking in the blackness, stretching and arching instinctively into Akihiko. "You've been a very-" Akihiko bit the top of Misaki's ear and didn't finish his sentence. He didn't need to.

"Ah!" Now Misaki was fully awake; still rather inebriated, but awake nonetheless. Akihiko licked at the sore bite-mark as his hands found Misaki's and held them tenderly against Misaki's stomach.

"You thought you could get away with that did you?" Akihiko teased, nuzzling into the back of Misaki's head before breathing him in and tracing his nose down Misaki's neck. "Pulling the tiger's tail..."

"I was drunk," Misaki half-grumbled, half-moaned, squeezing Akihiko's hands as anticipation burned through him. Akihiko let go of Misaki's hands so he could explore under his shirt, fingers sending trickling sensations through Misaki's torso. "I still am... drunk..."

"On me?" Akihiko purred, pushing himself up and then Misaki onto his back before swooping down and kissing the night into his love. Misaki clutched at Akihiko's back, then pulled away from the kiss, to pant out,

"Are you wearing... are you wearing the-"

"Mmhmm," Akihiko hummed happily into Misaki's ear. A pause. Then,

"Where's the light?" Misaki scrambled up and Akihiko- straddling Misaki- let him, rather smug. Once the bedside lamp was switched on, Misaki was free to ogle his pin-up husband kneeling up with just an inch of midriff exposed. In those jeans. And that black t-shirt that fit him _just so_; just so his pecs were pronounced just right and his arms were revealed just right and his neck and his silvery-skin...

A kind and knowing smile adorned Akihiko's face as he observed Misaki's reactions, absorbing Misaki simultaneously: rumpled green floral shirt, mussed up chocolate hair and brilliantly green eyes that were definitely hazy from drink. But he had only seconds to study because before long Misaki had yanked Akihiko back down into an initially clumsy but eventually delicious kiss, Misaki's nails and fingers travelling over the tantalising t-shirt; nails dragging down front and back, pulling and clutching at the sides as Akihiko made the kiss so wholesome, so full, so-

"Does this fit the fantasy?" Akihiko suddenly asked, lush silvery-grey hair falling around his smiling face as he looked down. Open-mouthed and breathing fast, Misaki nodded, arms clinging around Akihiko's neck.

"Don't stop!" Misaki reprimanded.

"Mmmm..." Akihiko leaned down and stared deep into Misaki's eyes... before swiftly moving off him and the bed. "An eye for an eye, Misaki."

Having been exposed to Akihiko devious art for nearly a decade, Misaki- infidel of sobriety even so- caught on very quick. Akihiko was going to leave, to discipline him.

"No!" Misaki lunged for Akihiko, swinging two arms around his shoulders from behind and falling backwards onto the mattress. "Nuh-uh, no way. It's been almost a month!" Misaki protested, wrapping his legs over Akihiko's chest.

"I know that... trust me..." Akihiko chuckled, dismissing the stab of pain missing Misaki caused. "I can feel how _hard_ it's been for you..."

"So can I," Misaki quipped, nudging Akihiko in his nether regions with his heel. "Here." Akihiko sighed a very manly sigh and reached up to hold Misaki's wrists.

"Let me go."

"No, you'll leave!"

"I won't. I promise."

Akihiko never broke a promise to Misaki. Misaki released him, but only for a second enough so Akihiko was stood and turned round in the perfect position so Misaki could yank him down by the t-shirt and push him against the headboard of the bed.

"Woah! Misaki, I'm not..." Misaki was taking off his shirt. Akihiko inhaled deeply and fixed Misaki with bemused look tinged with want. Once Misaki had straddled him, Akihiko's eyes had glazed over darkly and his breathing was quiet but heavy. Misaki's groin touched Akihiko's chest as Misaki reared up, looked down at Akihiko, then kissed him softly, cold paws under Akihiko's jaw. Akihiko welcomed him in, draping his arms around Misaki's waist as Misaki sunk down, eventually sitting on his rather sizeable hard-on. He heard the hitch in Misaki's breath and tugged gently on his earlobe. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered.

"No," Misaki murmured in response, pushing himself further down Akihiko's thighs. "You're not..." And he leaned forward, right to Akihiko's black-clad chest-

And gave him the electric shock of all bites.

Akihiko groaned, shocked and aroused and panting- his heart had stopped then thundered back to life.

"How drunk _are_ you?" he asked, incredulous.

"Drunk enough to forget and not be embarrassed tomorrow morning," Misaki replied, fingers looped in Akihiko's otherwise empty belt-loops as he peered up at the lustful Lord.

"Oh..." Akihiko shook his head gently and smirked, holding Misaki to him with one arm as he lay him on his back so his head was at the foot of the bed. "No-no; You won't be forgetting a thing."

And the lights went out.


	148. Bright

Drabble No. 146

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><p><span>Bright<span>

Neon green and electric blue lights were thrown around the warehouse, which had erupted with both people and noise. An unrelenting, ear-poppingly loud drum-and-bass beat rebounded off the walls and very high ceiling as teenagers danced and drank into the small hours of dawn.

Miyagi sensed Shinobu was there- and he was on the prowl. Rumours of this party had been circulating the college for months, although Shinobu had not mentioned it directly to Miyagi. An advantage for Miyagi was that only a select few students had finished exams, so there was a chance he wouldn't be detected.

He'd stayed pretty simple and smart in his dress, though not too uptight- white shirt, top button undone; black jeans; smart black shoes and a leather jacket. Catching glimpses of the adolescent attire, however, Miyagi felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. They were dressed very much like the strobe lights: bright, almost blinding, and wild. Like some sort of space fantasy.

He was already beginning to develop a headache five minutes in.

Then he spotted him.

Leaning against the bar and laughing with a group of- Miyagi noted- _much taller_ friends, Shinobu wore a glowing green t-shirt and blue trousers, hair rather wackily gelled. Miyagi readied himself-

And pounced.

Striding over, he fixed his eyes onto Shinobu's and ignored the group- who dissipated before long- and stood so close their noses touched. Miyagi glared and smirked down at him. They neither of them swapped a single word before their mouths were warring for dominance in a heart-throbbingly, stomach-swoopingly exciting kiss. Miyagi's hands gripped the other side of the bar as he pressed himself as suggestively against his lover as possible. Miyagi could feel Shinobu's heart thumping in his chest like a rabbit foot, could taste something intoxicatingly sweet on his wanton lips. Shinobu's nails were digging into Miyagi's lower back, under his jacket and shirt. A rush of adrenaline washed over Miyagi's nerves as his Shinobu-sensitive ears caught a wonderfully lustful whimper.

Miyagi pulled back and watched the lights' jagged patterns on Shinobu's skin before panting out,

"Are you about done here?"

Shinobu had to read Miyagi's lips as he repeated in order to understand but once the message was received, the pair were off and out into the cool, violet and peach morning.


	149. Gems

Drabble No. 147

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><p><span>Gems<span>

Water was dripping from his eyelashes, from his now molten silver hair. His black jacket was drenched, his shirt practically mulch and his trousers soaked and clinging. He was panting. His lips were dry and bluish but his eyes were bright as gems.

"Marry me."

Silence, aside from the drum of rain outside.

Misaki had been having a late dinner alone in a flat he was currently renting (for the final exam season of his educational career), which was closer to the University. He had thought Akihiko was happily home working for the night. It struck him then how naive that was.

"Wha-"

"Marry me," Akihiko exhaleded, pushing an arm against the door-lintle. He swallowed, then gasped in air. How far had he run? "Marry me."

"How far did you run?"

"My whole life I've been running," Akihiko replied almost immediately. His pale neck and face shimmered with sweat and rain. "And that doesn't mean you're the finish line or the trophy. I'm going to keep on running until I stop, we all will. But... you make me breathless, Misaki. And sometimes getting breathless is painful. But-" he slapped his palm on his chest and Misaki noticed a puddle forming around Akihiko's ruined shoes- "Running with you, even when I'm breathless and I want to stop, I don't actually want to stop because reaching the finish line would mean not running with you..."

Was he unwell?

"Run with me, Misaki. Marry me."

"You ran from the damn apartment, didn't you?"

"Misaki," Akihiko panted, dropping his head and holding a hand to his side, presumably a stitch. "I'm asking you to-"

"Fool! You absolute idiot! What, is this some sort of romantic gesture? Because it's not romantic, it's stupid! You're gonna catch a cold-" _Because of me!_ Misaki panicked in his head- "a freaking cold and guess who's gonna have to look after you and then get sick and fail these exams and-"

"Misaki-"

"Shut up, come inside."

Akihiko panted some more and stared at Misaki for a moment more before he sighed and trundled in, shoes patting wetly on the floor as he was pushed to the small bathroom.

"Sit on the bath edge," Misaki commanded, pulling a towel off the radiator and setting to work on drying Akihiko off. Akihiko sat there, at once contented and dejected, distantly amused as Misaki stepped into the bath-tub to better dry him.

Eventually, he asked again,

"Misaki, will you marry me?"

"What?" Misaki paused. Akihiko looked up- deflated pup- and watched Misaki's face in the mirror as a pensive then blank look befell it. The towel dropped with a dull crumple in the tub as Misaki leaned further down and raked his fingers through Akihiko's still damp hair, obviously deep in thought. Akihiko stayed stone-still but definitely caught the twitch of a smile in Misaki's eyes before blankness overtook again. "Could we have bracelets?" he asked, suddenly.

"Bracelets?"

"Instead of... you know... rings... simple, silver bracelets?"

Akihiko blinked, a deceptively small reaction to the swelling of his heart.

"Okay," he conceded after a few moments. He could have sworn he felt Misaki breathe him in, right from the top of his head, but the moment passed before he could make sure. Rather quietly, Misaki stepped out of the bathtub and over to the door.

"Chicken or tomato soup?" he asked.

Twenty minutes later, Misaki and Akihiko sat at a small circular table, a steaming bowl of tomato soup each. Two stacks of coursework were piled on either side of both of their chairs. They were wonderfully warmed, however, by soup-

And hope.


	150. Pillow

Drabble No. 148

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><p><span>Pillow<span>

Miyagi was exhausted. His eyes felt like boulders in his skull and his eyelids heavy, refusing to stay up for more than a couple of seconds. He was at that stage of exhaustion where he could have slept anywhere. Nevertheless, he pushed himself through- kept himself awake in the elevator, upright as he zombied down the hallway, conscious as he slowly fitted the key into the lock of the apartment (not his).

He navigated the living room without bumping into anything aside from knocking his knee against the low table corner and was in the bedroom before he crashed-

Right onto the bed, head exactly on the much-missed pillow that was Shinobu's stomach.

"Hey!" Shinobu piped, shocked from dropping off himself. "Miyagi? What the hell are you doing! Scaring me like that, you can't just-"

Miyagi grumbled something imperceivable and his arms wrapped round Shinobu's waist before he nuzzled his stubbly cheek and jaw against Shinobu's tummy and promptly set off for dreamland.


	151. Grace

Drabble No. 149

A brief reminder to you lovely readers that- unless explicitly stated- these drabbles are not chronological. Therefore, they are standalone pieces, which means that whilst a couple may be engaged in one, they may not be in another etc.

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><p><span>Grace<span>

Akihiko was resting his head in his palm, his laptop burring on his lap as he sat up in bed and tried to pour out some last dregs of inspiration. He needed to finish this chapter.

_A couple more sentences, that's all you need_, he thought, but a sharp, pulsing headache interrupted any chance of productivity or creativity.

"Usagi-san...?" Misaki, clad in an over-large t-shirt of Akihiko's and a pair of chequered boxers, popped his head round the door to their bedroom. "Are you still working?"

"Hm."

Misaki was slightly perturbed by the unenthused response and the fact Akihiko didn't look up but kept his no-doubt pounding head in his hand. So, he stepped over a couple of toy cars and the mini railway-set at the end of the bed before clambering onto the mattress and kneeling.

"I think..." Misaki spoke quite quietly. "I think you've done enough for today, Usagi-san."

_A couple more sentences, a couple more sentences..._

"Mm."

"Usagi-san, you're exhausted. Rest now. Please."

Silence.

Despite the fact Akihiko was wearing a long-sleeved top and the covers were over him, Misaki felt sure that the man must've been cold- more through tiredness than actual temperature. He had been working all day, solidly, barely touching food or drink or speaking to Misaki. Whilst Misaki was grateful for the peace, he was also anxious to ensure Usagi-san didn't work himself into oblivion, a potent risk. What Misaki knew for certain was that Akihiko was currently in no state to continue working without dire consequence and- more- was probably unable to stop working without a little help.

Crawling forwards gently, Misaki straddled Akihiko's shins over the duvet, turned the laptop round and clicked save on the open document before shutting the computer down and closing the lid. Even then, Akihiko did not move, maintaining a statuesque stillness. Managing to balance rather well, Misaki remained on Akihiko whilst leaning to one side and putting the laptop on the floor. Then, he shimmied back and by the ankles, dragged Akihiko down the bed so eventually his head fell on the pillow. Usagi-san barely sighed.

With a routine grace, Misaki slipped in next to Akihiko and maneuvered the man's head so it lay on his shoulder, before proceeding to lightly stroke Akihiko's hair, soothing his lover to a deep sleep.

The beauty of Misaki's actions- and indeed their motives- was that on the whole Misaki was quite unaware of the wondrous love he showed and bestowed upon Lord Usami Akihiko. He moved by a love-induced instinct; it was a visceral thing, instinct over intellect, gut (or rather, heart) over thought.

And so it was subliminally that Misaki himself was soothed to sleep by the scent of his life's purpose and a small, yellow moth on the wall observed this scene with a smile, itself soothed by the soft snores of the now contented couple.


	152. Swoop

Drabble No. 150!

Hello! I lost my Junjou Mojo for a while there O.O Hopefully this is up to scratch, please leave any feedback you can :)

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><p><span>Swoop<span>

The sweet zest of the tangerine we'd shared could still be smelt on his fingertips as they raked through my hair- it sent a pleasant zing through my senses as my hands flew to his shirt-front and clutched tightly, his mouth on mine tender and torturous at once.

"Usagi-san," I breathed, body yearning to be ever-closer to his and gleeful as his strong arms lifted me up onto the counter-top of the night-dark kitchen. He groaned as my nails scratched down through his hair and neck, fingers eagerly exploring his broad shoulders under his shirt collar, and reciprocated by gliding his palms over the insides of my thighs, making my blood burn.

As his kisses travelled under my jaw and down my throat, I took a moment to rescue my breath before absorbing myself in the unique scent that resided in the crook of his neck- lavender as soothing as a lullaby with a delicate but intoxicating edge of chocolatey spice that overpowered me to the point of no return. Five years ago, when I'd forced open the lock of prudish prissiness that I'd let bar me from living, I'd discovered in my determined mission, that smell. Ever since, it had been a key to my undoing, freeing a creature that craved this man wildly.

My teeth and lips teased over his throat- tasting- and his breathing became heavier as he pushed my back into his body roughly, his fingers stroking elegantly down every nerve of my torso, making my stomach swoop before my jeans-button was quickly undone and I was consumed with a tongue-full kiss.


	153. Unknotted

Drabble No. 151!

Hello! I lost my Junjou Mojo for a while there O.O Hopefully this is up to scratch, please leave any feedback you can :)

_**ALSO: SHAMEFUL SELF-PROMOTION TIME- I HAVE CREATED A MOVIE REVIEW BLOG, MOVIEVE . WORDPRESS . COM, WHICH I HOPE SOME OF YOU CAN VISIT. I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR FEEDBACK AND WILL GLADLY TAKE RECOMMENDATIONS FOR FILMS TO SEE. MANY THANK-YOUS.**_

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><p><span>Unknotted<span>

Hiroki ripped open Nowaki's shirt, straddling him on a plastic chair in the narrow, unlit store cupboard and gasping round fast, greedy kisses.

"How long's your-" Nowaki interrupted Hiroki by palming him skilfully with the the heel of his hand and kissing behind his ear, tantalising his nerves and eliciting a shivering moan. Hiroki gripped onto Nowaki's shoulders, grateful that Nowaki had already taken the lead on undoing his fly. "Your lunch-hour... how long's your lunch-hour?" Nowaki paused, much to Hiroki's dismay, and pulled back to give Hiroki a 'seriously?' stare. "What?"

"You... you're asking me how long my lunch-_hour_ is?" Nowaki pressed, amused as he leant the inch forward so he could check the lock on the door.

It took a moment for Hiroki, in his horny haze, to realise what Nowaki meant.

"Oh... shut up," he grumbled, too in awe of his husband's delicious torso. He dragged his nails down Nowaki's chest in appreciation of it and ground down proudly when he heard Nowaki's pine of pleasure. Running out of patience, Hiroki unbent his knees so there was room for him to undo Nowaki's belt, which he whipped off fast before binding Nowaki's wrists expertly to the frame of the chair. It fascinated Hiroki to no end that even when restrained like this Nowaki's power was in no way diluted. There passed between the two men a gaze of such heavy, heady lust that both of them suddenly felt a dread that anyone passing outside the door would be able to easily sense them there, even as quiet as they currently were.

Telepathic, Hiroki unknotted his tie, which was already loose from Nowaki forcing him upwards for their first kiss upon entering the store cupboard. Stroking down Nowaki's lower lip with his thumb, he offered the tie as a means of muffling what experience had taught both of them were rather mighty cries. There was a wicked glint in Nowaki's eye, as he took the tie with his teeth, that Hiroki knew only he had ever been privy to. Smirking, he slid gracefully between Nowaki's knees onto his own and unzipped...


	154. Eve

Festive Greetings to any readers who chance by this. I have dusted off my Junjou quill and hope this proves worthy.

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><p>His body warmed through with Misaki's homemade apple crumble and a roaring fire, Akihiko threw his feet up onto the sofa and nestled down. He closed his eyes and smiled, listening to Misaki potter about in the kitchen to the percussion of the crackling flames.<p>

"Are you sure you've had enough to eat?" Misaki cooed.

"Mm."

"Pardon?"

Akihiko repeated his monosyllable slightly louder, not wishing to pierce the peace of the moment with harsh words. Despite his vocation in life, he sometimes felt words to be intrusive. Actions, motions, instinct was sorely overlooked. In fact, it was probably thanks to- not despite- his profession that he had learnt to respect words in the same way Misaki respected their finest china. They were only to be brought out when truly necessary and when they could enhance.

_Sometimes skies are wondrous without their offspring stars_, he mused.

Soon the clinks and rushes of water from the kitchen ceased and he heard Misaki pad over to him. He slowly opened one eye to find Misaki stood next to the sofa, tugging on the bottom of his sweater, not sure where to put himself.

"I'm not budging," Akihiko smiled, pressing his feet decidedly into the sofa arm and stretching his legs. Misaki sighed that special sigh- through the nose and throat- that told Akihiko he was misbehaving. He closed his eyes, only to open them a second later in shock as Misaki straddled him.

They stared plainly at one another, both fully aware of the seductive potential of this position. However, they were equally aware of their shared bloatedness from a particularly indulgent supper.

Thus, on Christmas Eve of their sixth year together, Akihiko and Misaki did not stay up long enough to spy Santa or indeed to shock Santa with explicit celebration. They slept, Misaki curled on Akihiko's chest and Akihiko's arms around his most favoured present from life.


End file.
